


The Road Not Taken

by gubernaculum



Series: The Namesakes [10]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 56,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubernaculum/pseuds/gubernaculum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Ianto wondered how different his life would be if Jack had never returned after the Year that Never Was. He never expected to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I'm only borrowing everything purely for non-profit and completely recreational purposes. The characters of Miranda Ryan, Joseph Fischer and Olivia Porter are my own. I have cast them as Zhang Ziyi, Jesse Spencer and Claire Danes respectively. This fic is unbeta'd and therefore probably full of grammatical and typographical errors. Writing is purely a hobby for me. I am an American and have attempted to do my own Britpicking so I apologize for any errors there as well. I am just borrowing Highlander concepts and names so it won't line up well with that show's canon. This is also AU for Torchwood as I like to pretend CoE and Miracle Day never happened.

"Oh c'mon, Ianto!" Jack shouted with a nervous half laugh. "It was just a joke!"

"A joke that I didn't appreciate," Ianto snapped back. He was so pissed off. Jack wasn't taking him seriously. It might make him a colossal girl but he hated when Jack did that. 

The Hub was in night mode and Ianto was going about the last of his routine. He'd waited until everyone had gone before confronting his husband about what had been bothering him since this morning. Miranda, thankfully, was in her rooms and unaware of the shouting match occurring above her. He probably should have pulled Jack aside immediately but had decided to wait for privacy. 

"I thought we were past all this, Yan!" Jack yelled. 

Ianto wanted to believe that he was better than this; more evolved. And with most things he was, but not this. It may have been years but this still touched a nerve with him. Ianto shouted without turning around, "Telling Martha you'd rather be dashing about with the Doctor instead of having 'pizza and Ianto' is not okay, Jack!" 

Jack grabbed Ianto's arm. "I came back for you!" 

He shook of Jack's arm and threw his own words back at him, "For all of us!" 

Jack took a few steps back as if Ianto had slapped him. "You know how I feel about you, Ianto." 

Ianto wanted that to mean something. He knew how much Jack loved him but Jack had admitted he'd loved him when he'd run off the first time. Love hadn't stopped him then. Why that stop him from doing the same thing again?  

"It never changes does it?" Ianto said, softly. Hurt was on every inch of his face. "I thought we were past this too but I saw that look on your face when the TARDIS disappeared after the wedding. If you left, would you even leave a bloody note this time? Or would I have to watch you running away on the security cameras again?" 

The old hurt and insecurity was a bitter pill in Ianto's throat. It embarrassed him to admit it but he'd done it anyway. It had been bothering him even more since he'd died his first death and become immortal. While time travel meant that Jack could swan off with the Doctor and return at any point, with Ianto's immortality, he wouldn't have to be quite as concerned with returning at the proper moment either.

"I'd take you with me!" Jack cried. 

"What? So I could watch you fawn over him in person? Yeah, thanks for that," Ianto shouted with a spectacular roll of his eyes. "Don't do me any favours, Jack." 

He stormed his way across the Hub and down into the archives. He slammed his office door and sat down. He scrubbed at his face and shook his head. He knew he was overreacting and letting himself stew about it all day hadn't helped but the Doctor hit a nerve. Jack knew that and mostly kept his rude comments to a minimum. Ianto always let those slide down off his back in the past but the piteous look Martha had given him was too much. All those wonderful amazing adventures with the Doctor were the one thing that Ianto knew he could never compete with. 

The rift alert sounded and Ianto heaved out a sigh. He scrubbed at his face again and left his office for the main Hub. Jack was nowhere in sight. _Up on the roof. He's good on roofs…_ Ianto narrowed the area of the spike. It was right up on the Plass. There was no reason for him to wait for Jack or Miranda. He was immortal now. He could take care of it himself. 

He didn't bother putting his tie back on or his suit jacket. It was a warm summer night. He grabbed one of the portable kits and took the invisible lift up. With his PDA in hand, he started scanning the Plass. The row was still in the back of his mind. He pushed it back. It didn't take him long to find the object. _A book?_

It looked like nothing more than any misplaced object, laying on the ground. Ianto put on the protective gloves and picked the item up. It looked like any hardback book but there was no title printed on the spine or the front cover. Lots of books fell through the rift of all genres and types. There were even some personal journals and diaries. He scanned it with his PDA, it was bursting with rift energy so it was definitely what had come through. With a shake of his head, he got back onto the invisible lift and took it down. He put the book down onto Fish's worktable and dropped his gloves next to it. Curious, he tried to open the cover… and couldn't. It looked like a paper book with normal pages but it wouldn't open. Shrugging it off as typical Torchwood, Ianto left the book so that Fish could examine it tomorrow. With a sigh, he supposed he should go upstairs and apologise to Jack. _No…_ not this time. The anger bubbled up in him again. 

He turned towards the north stairs. He'd sleep on Miranda's sofa tonight. The rustling of paper made Ianto turn. The book was open. His eyes went wide and Ianto took a few steps back in surprise. He started to back up slowly towards the lockdown button on the wall. The book was starting to glow. Ianto gasped and just as he turned to run for the lockdown, a bright light enveloped him. It felt as if someone had put their hand in his belt and yanked backwards and the last thing he thought before the world went dark was _I'm sorry, Jack…_


	2. Chapter 2

Ianto woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. With a groan, he rolled over and slammed his hand down on it. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He swung his legs out of bed and looked around his… his old flat? _How did I get here?_ Confused for a moment, Ianto reached over for his sword. It was leaning against his bedside table the same as it always was. He shook off the confusion. Obviously, he hadn't slept well last night. Why had he expected to wake up in the bunker? 

A rush of anger welled up in him. _Sodding bastard_ … he thought and stormed into the en suite. It had been a months since he'd dreamed about Jack or since the man had crossed his mind… until now. Ianto started the shower, being a little rough with the tap. After knocking his fingers, he swore loudly in Welsh. He stood under the spray, refusing to think about Jack bloody Harkness and his sodding fifty first century pheromones. 

The taste of Jack's skin was in his mouth and his memory and Ianto was rock hard. His erection throbbed painfully as a flurry of erotic images cycled through his mind… Jack's hard cock shoved in his arse or his mouth… Jack's hands and mouth doing positively sinful things to him… Ianto gritted his teeth and reached for the tap, turning off the hot water. The ice cold shocked his system but didn't help. His stubborn erection persisted. With a sigh, Ianto turned the hot water back on. As he soaped himself, he let his fist slide over his erection as memories of Jack flooded his mind. Ianto came, spurting over his hand and the tiles. Jack's name had nearly escaped his lips. The orgasm had been empty and unsatisfying. Only Jack had been able to make Ianto come with every fiber of his being. And now he was gone. Ianto shook his head, taking a deep breath. _Sod him!_

That good for nothing bastard had swanned off with the Doctor and had never come back. They'd waited. Ianto had held out hope. He told the others Jack would come back to them… _to me…_ He'd defended that bastard to them all and Jack had made him the fool. He'd counted the days and then the weeks and then the months until they could no longer hide Jack's absence from Her Majesty. Ianto had begged and pleaded. He'd gone before the Queen himself, pitching for Gwen's promotion - just something temporary until Captain Harkness returned - but Her Majesty had had someone else in mind, someone she said who had more Torchwood experience than anyone else alive, except for Jack. 

Less than a week later that ice woman, Miranda Ryan had walked into the Hub and taken charge. What Tosh saw in her was beyond him… wait… _Tosh?!_ No, of course Tosh was fine. What on earth made Ianto think that she was… dead? No, Miranda and Tosh had gotten together six months after Owen's death at the Pharm. The two women were blissfully happy together, sharing Tosh's flat. Why had Ianto thought Miranda still lived in those rooms in the north sub-basement? He shook off the strange thought. 

 _Too big for your breeches, Ianto… Getting ideas beyond your station you are_ … his father's voice whispered in his mind and Ianto winced. It was what his father had said to him when he'd gone off to London. It had been the last time Ianto had seen his father alive. His father had worked doing alterations at Debenhams his whole life. His family had lived on a council estate, having a rough time making ends meet but he'd never wanted anything better or more. That wasn't Ianto. He'd gone off in search of something better for himself and the old man had told him that nothing good would come of it or London. Ianto had been furious when Daleks and Cybermen and then Jack fucking Harkness had proven his father correct.

What should he really have expected from Jack? The fifty first century man was used to galavanting around the universe, through time and space with a Time Lord, doing whatever and whomever he pleased. Jack was filled with a lust, wander and conventional, that Ianto couldn't possibly compete with. 

Now, Ianto counted the time Jack hadn't returned in years. For a while, Ianto had kept that hope alive but eventually he'd done what everyone had told him to do. He'd moved on. He knew he shouldn't still be so bloody angry but the whole thing was like a raw open nerve for him. Sometimes in life there were things you put past you and sometimes there were things that you just mixed into who you were. 

He finished his shower and got dressed. Feeling particularly surly, Ianto decided to skip his sword regime this morning. The last time he'd practiced when he was in this foul a mood, he'd put a nick in his blade. Instead, he selected one of his suits and drove to the bake shop to pick up breakfast for the team. He knew all their favourites. On his way out of the bake shop, he reached into his wallet so he could dump the cocktail napkin with the phone number of his last one night stand into the bin. It had been a good night, quite satisfying really, but Ianto didn't want anything more. He never did but he always made sure whoever he took into his bed knew that. 

As usual, he arrived at the Hub before the others. He fed the pterodactyl, Janet and the niffler. He laid out breakfast in the kitchen and prepared the coffee. Just as the pot was ready, Miranda arrived with Tosh. Ianto felt the woman first, the pressure blossoming between his temples. The next sign was the light click of boot heels on the concrete floor. He looked up. He saw Miranda tug her hand out of Tosh's just as they came out of the hallway that led to the Hub's garage. Ianto had no idea why they bothered. It had been years and they were living together. Things between them were serious. Even if it was just a small affair, it was hard to hide the fact that you're shagging the boss in a team of five. Ianto should know. He still had no idea what Tosh saw in her. 

"Morning, Ianto!" Tosh said brightly. 

"Morning, Tosh," Ianto called back to her, not looking up from his chore. He walked over to the couple and handed Tosh a chocolate croissant. He turned to Miranda and said, professionally, "Good morning, ma'am, the quarterly phone call with UNIT is scheduled for later this morning. Colonel Ashline sends his regards." 

"Thank you, Jones. Coffee, please?" Miranda said, brightly. 

Ianto blinked and did a double take. Why had he expected the voice out of Miranda's mouth to be Irish? The immortal woman wasn't Welsh but she'd used the accent since day one. It actually kind of unnerved him how flawless her Welsh was. Once he'd asked Tosh why and she'd told him that the choice had had a simple reason. Pretending to be Welsh ruffled fewer feathers with the locals. 

"It'll be ready straight away, ma'am," Ianto said. 

He gave her a short nod and bustled off to the Hub kitchen as the proximity alerts went off. He waved at their medic, Cameron MacDonald, coming through the cogwheel door. He was a bit surprised at first to see the Scot but shook it off quickly. He looked at his watch. Cameron was a little early, that must be the source of his surprise. 

"Morning, Cam," Ianto called out, politely. "Coffee?" 

"Ianto," he said with a polite wave. His Scottish brogue was heavy and thick. "Tea, please."

Ianto smiled. He'd been trying to get Cameron to regularly drink his coffee since he'd arrived but the Scot still preferred tea. "Milk and honey?"  

"Aye, thanks, Ianto!" Cam shouted as he disappeared into the medical bay. 

He laid out the mugs and started to pour and then let out a curse. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? The mugs on the tray were completely wrong! He'd taken out Jack's blue and white stripped mug. He'd also left Tosh's mug on the shelf and had taken out another dark green mug he almost never used. He'd left Cameron's mug sitting on the shelf as well, neglecting to set the tea to brew. Angry, Ianto dumped the coffee out of Jack's mug and then tossed the offending piece of ceramic straight into the bin, disappointed that it didn't shatter when it hit the bottom. He went about righting the mugs and repouring the coffee. He set Cameron's tea to brew. 

For some reason, nothing felt right this morning to Miranda either. She was sitting at Jack's… no, _her_ desk. She was looking around the room trying to find what was out of place. Nothing she could see. Everything had been the same as it always had been since she'd rearranged the office. She went over her morning, it had been like every other one. She'd woken up beside Tosh and slipped out of bed. She'd gone for a run, stopping at the abandoned building she used for her sword practice. Tosh was still asleep when Miranda had gotten home. She'd been quite creative in waking her lover. After they'd cleaned up, Tosh had driven while Miranda had checked e-mail on her mobile. It was a perfectly normal morning, just like every other morning. What could possibly be wrong? She picked up her comm unit and popped it into her ear. She tapped her private channel for Tosh. 

"Babe? Is everything all right?" 

"With me or the rift?" she asked, playfully. 

"Both," Miranda said, smiling. 

"The rift predictor is showing a few spikes for today but nothing major," Tosh informed her. Her voice lowered to a husky whisper. "We could try and sneak off home for lunch." 

Miranda smiled. "Or we could just-"

"Not in the Hub, Miranda," Tosh scolded. 

"You're no fun," Miranda whinged. "Thanks, babe." 

Miranda turned off her comm unit and stowed it in Jack's… _her_ … THE desk drawer. She heaved out a sigh. Torchwood without Jack Harkness had taken time to get used to. Miranda had floated in and out of Torchwood for over fifty years but every time she'd returned, Jack had been there. Sometimes they rekindled their love, physically, emotionally or both, and sometimes they were just colleagues. But either way, Torchwood hadn't been the same without Jack and Miranda was so disappointed in a man who she had come to think of as husband. Oh, Miranda didn't think of Jack as husband in the traditional sense that most people did. Rather she thought of Jack as a integral part of her life, someone with whom she shared a deep connection to, mind, body and spirit. 

If there was one thing an immortal knew better than most mortals was the fragility of life. They knew that at any moment, the ones they loved could be taken from them forever and after four thousand years of loss and grief, Miranda Ryan knew to let those around her know how much they meant to her. Jack was immensely important to her. He was someone Miranda could share friendship with across the centuries without fear or suspicion. Jack, though immortal, was not an immortal of the Game. He had no interest in Miranda's head or her quickening. Miranda had nothing to fear from him. It was a gift that Miranda treasured and cherished and now that gift was gone. 

She glanced over at the rug that covered the hatch down to Jack's bunker. She'd grudgingly accepted this position, praying to the Goddess that it was temporary. She had felt the world weariness creeping in her mind but there was nothing to be done. She couldn't abandon Torchwood even though Jack had. She did what she had to do. She took charge of Jack's team, trying to run Torchwood as Jack would have wanted, in his precious Doctor's image. But it didn't hide the bitterness in her heart. 

Before, Miranda had acted as a mere custodian, waiting for the return of the rightful leader but once Harper was dead, Miranda no longer had that luxury. The team had suffered a loss. They needed a leader so she'd accepted her mantle. She'd needed to take charge. She'd rearranged the office. She'd emptied out the bunker and sealed it. She'd put everything into Jack's personal storage room and locked it. That had been the final nail in the coffin. Missing from Jack's things was his tin of pictures and keepsakes. If the immortal man had taken that with him, he'd had no plans to return. 

Torchwood was hers now. 

In the beginning, the whole team had been set against her. The circumstances surrounding her appointment had united them in their resentment of her but, as time went on, the team had come to respect her. She'd worked hard to earn that respect and their trust. She'd worked even harder to show them all that she wasn't going anywhere, that she wasn't going to disappear like Jack had. The only person she hadn't won over yet was Ianto Jones. 

The man despised her. Oh, he was polite enough but Miranda knew that was just a facade. The impassive mask of butler hid a deep contempt. He was a constant headwind that she battled against, questioning her authority and orders. When the Welshman had been shot by a blowfish scarcely a few days after she'd taken over, Miranda hadn't even considered becoming his teacher. She simply given him to the Highlander and wiped her hands of him. There was no way she could teach someone so resolute in his hatred and so stubbornly set against her. He would learn nothing and she had no desire to see his head roll.

She sighed as she flipped through her messages. She knew that Ianto not only railed against her professionally but personally as well. He did not look favourably upon her relationship with Tosh. After she and Tosh had started seeing each other, Tosh had told her about how Ianto and Jack had been lovers. Miranda had finally understood. She was a convenient surrogate for Ianto's anger, another immortal leader of Torchwood that he could rail against in place of Jack. A polite knock at the door brought her out of her musings. 

"Come in," Miranda called. 

Ianto entered the room with his silver tray. He put Miranda's coffee at her right hand. He set the plate with her bacon sandwich down in front of her. 

"Here you go, ma'am," he said. "Can I get you anything else?" 

"No, thank you, Jones," Miranda said, sighing deeply. 

Normally, Ianto would have ignored the noise and the odd tone. He would've simply bustled back out of the room but this time, he asked, "Are you all right, Mandy?" 

"Something feels… off today, Ifan," she confided, uncharacteristically.  "I can't quite put my finger on it though." 

The two immortals gaped at each other. 

"Did you just call me Ifan?" 

"Did you just call me Mandy?"

Ianto shook his head. "How about I walk out and we forget this ever happened?" 

Miranda nodded and Ianto hurried from the room, embarrassed and pink eared.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was sipping at the hypervodka in front of him. It stung as it went down. _How'd I get here?_ he wondered, mid-sip. He stared at the glass his hand as if he'd never seen it before. Gods, if he was wondering that maybe he should stop drinking. He'd been on this planet for a few days and was about to move on, looking for work. He'd popped into this bar for a quick drink or two because, even in space, it was cheaper drinking at the local dive than having a few at the spaceport. 

He'd just managed to shake off the bizarre feeling when a six fingered, orange skinned hand suddenly came down on his shoulder. Jack turned, startled at first but then a broad smile spread across his face as he recognised the man behind him. He laughed and said brightly, "Hey, hey! Duggie!" 

"Jack-Jack! Can't believe it! I thought I recognised that coat of yours You found a way off that primitive little rock!" the short, stocky man exclaimed. He snatched the drink in front of his friend. He downed it in one gulp then grimaced. "Worst hypervodka in the seven sectors…" 

"If it's the worst, why are you stealing mine?" Jack teased. He pointed at the seat across from him.  

"So, what are you doing here? You doing a job?" Duggie asked, sitting down. 

"Nah, just passing through," Jack said smiling. 

"You're not going back to Earth?" Duggie asked, curious.

Jack shook his head. _Ianto's… They're all better off without me_ … he told himself for the millionth time. 

"Are you looking for work?" Duggie asked. 

"Maybe," Jack said with a shrug. "You got something?" 

"There's a shipment of Crassostrian pearls if you're interested," Duggie said, his voice low.

"It's not a Syndicate shipment is it?" Jack asked, wary. 

"No, Jack-Jack, I swear," Duggie said, sitting down across from Jack. He waved at the serving droid to bring him another drink. 

Jack smiled at Duggie's nerves. It had been the fifties when Duggie had crashed into a piece of space junk in Earth orbit trying to outrun the Syndicate, the organised crime unit of this particular sector in this particular century. They had their fingers in just about everything black market. Duggie was a man after Jack's own heart. He was a con-man and a thief but he had some principles and morals. When the Syndicate had ordered him to steal but leave no witnesses, Duggie had said thanks but no thanks… but he'd never returned their fee. So he'd ended up on Earth with a busted ship right on Torchwood's doorstep. Jack had let him raid Torchwood's archives for what he'd needed to repair his ship and then sent him on his way. Duggie always said he'd owed Jack one and had even offered to take him with him but Jack had refused. He hadn't worried about Duggie. A man like him knew how to take care of himself. What Jack had worried was that the Syndicate might decide to make an example out of him. Looks like that hadn't happened yet. 

"Did you ever find what you were looking for?" Duggie asked.

 _I found Ianto…_ Jack thought and for some strange reason, he looked down at his left hand. Why had he expected to see a ring there? The serving droid put another drink in front of Jack and he downed it in one swallow. He held up his finger, asking for another. He shook his head at Duggie and said ruefully, "I guess you could say that."

After the Year That Never Was, the Doctor had asked Jack to travel with him again and Jack had agreed. _I really don't mind though. Come with me…_ and Jack had jumped. The Doctor had said that Jack was wrong and Jack needed to prove to him and himself that he wasn't. So he'd turned away from Torchwood and boarded the TARDIS. Oh, they'd had some grand adventures with Martha and then Donna but, in the end, Jack's thoughts always turned back to Cardiff and Torchwood. Running around with the Doctor just wasn't the same. 

Over time, he realised he'd taken the easy way out and run. He'd been a coward but so much time had passed that he couldn't bring himself to go back. _It's better this way_ , he'd told himself. _Ianto's better off without me. They all are._  

Ianto had been what had kept him going through the Master's torture during the Year That Never Was and Jack had abandoned him. He'd tucked tail and ran because he was afraid. He knew he'd lose Ianto someday so what was the difference in losing him now or later? At least this way he wouldn't get Ianto killed. _I love you, Jack…_ he heard Ianto's voice in his mind again. Jack downed the next hypervodka the serving droid had put in front of him in one swallow. He asked for another. 

The hope of hearing those words from Ianto's lips for real was just a fantasy. Jack could never hope to earn the love of a man like that. Someone as special and unique as Ianto deserved so much more than him. So after the Doctor took Donna's memories, Jack couldn't get off the TARDIS fast enough. He'd had the Doctor drop him off at the nearest spaceport. He'd kicked around since then, finding his own way. At least, the Doctor had managed to get his timing right. It was still the twenty first century on Earth, only a few years after he'd left really, but Jack wasn't going back there. _It's too late now…_

"C'mon, Jack-Jack. We could use a good man like you. It'd be an even five split," Duggie insisted. 

"They aren't still on you, are they? The Syndicate?" Jack asked, twisting in his chair a bit. 

"I got back on their good side," Duggie said with a heavy shrug. 

"Oh yeah? How?" Jack asked, suspicious. 

"Okay, this job is for them-"

"Pass," Jack said, sipping his drink.

"Do you know what the take will be on a crate of Crassostrian pearls? C'mon, Jack-Jack!" Duggie begged. He waved for the serving droid again. 

Jack didn't want to get in bed with the Syndicate. He did a lot of work to keep Earth off their radar. Then again, he wasn't on Earth anymore and he wasn't going back. 

"You're telling me the Syndicate just let you off the hook?" Jack asked, suspicious. 

"I made it circle with them, Jack-Jack," Duggie insisted.

"Square. You made it square," Jack corrected. He looked at Duggie carefully. "Your gang'd be fine with bringing in another partner?" 

"A man like you? Your skills?" Duggie clapped Jack on the back again. "I don't know how a man like you knows the things you do, Jack-Jack, but I recognise skills when I see them. That was professional the way you snuck me into Torchwood and helped me fix my ship. This is a score of a lifetime. Plenty to go around." 

"I was thinking about heading back to Earth," Jack said with a shrug. The serving droid put another pair of glasses down in front of them.

"That primitive little rock? You're a bigger man than that, Jack-Jack. What could possibly be there for you?"

 _Welsh vowels and blue eyes…_ Ianto's face swam in Jack's mind and he felt a lump form in his throat. He shook his head and he told himself, again… _I would've just gotten him killed…_  

"Nothing, I guess. All right, Duggie, I'm in," Jack said. He raised his glass and drank.


	4. Chapter 4

Only a few hours after Ianto Jones had woken back in his flat and just as Jack was toasting with Duggie, Doctor Joseph Fischer let out a painful howl. It was a sunny morning in Manchester but Fish's day was getting off to a rough start. He rubbed his stubbed toe muttering curses at wood, the English and just about anyone else he could think of.  

"Livie!? Where the bloody hell are my trousers?" Fish shouted from the bedroom. 

"They're hanging behind the door!" his wife, Olivia, called up from the kitchen, exasperated. 

"Bugger!" Fish swore loudly. He looked around the room and there were his trousers, hanging behind the bedroom door. He ripped them off of the hanger and nearly fell over trying to pull them on. 

He sat down on the bed to regain his balance. He was so bloody late and Joseph Fischer hated being late. He bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping over… a pair of child size trainers? For a minute he couldn't understand why there'd be child's trainers on his stairs and then… 

"DAVID! How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your things on the stairs?!" he shouted. 

"Sorry, Dad!" the young boy shouted from the kitchen. 

 _Bloody hell…_ What in God's name was wrong with him this morning? His son was always leaving his things everywhere. How could he forget? It was one of the pitfalls of parenthood. He and Olivia hadn't planned on ever starting a family but Olivia's unexpected pregnancy had been the best thing that had ever happened to them. The boy'd been born less than a year after he and Olivia had gotten married. Fish smiled at the memory of holding David in his arms for the first time as he headed for the front door to get the… paper? Why would he be getting a newspaper? Who the bloody hell got newspapers delivered in this day and age? _Daft…_ Fish shook off the strange feeling and headed towards the kitchen. Olivia was holding his coffee mug out to him. David was in his school uniform. He was ignoring his half touched breakfast, his nose buried in his father's iPad. 

"Sorry, Livie, I'm late," Fish said as he took the mug from his wife. "Hurry up, kiddo, you don't want to miss the bus. I need that back now. And for the last time, stop mucking about in my bag!" 

"I want one of my own at Christmas!" David whinged as his father took back the tablet. 

Fish sighed as he saw a few more icons on the screen. The pitfalls of passing on his genius intellect continued to haunt him daily. Even though the iPad was locked, David perpetually guessed his code. The boy was constantly stealing the device to play games and was always installing new ones. Again, Fish had no idea how the boy kept guessing his passwords. 

"Oi! Keep stealing mine and buying apps without mine or your Mum's permission isn't the way to make that happen, young man," Fish snapped. _Christ, I sound like my father_ … 

David immediately looked chastised, staring down at his uneaten breakfast. "." 

Fish snatched a piece of toast off his plate. 

"Hey!" the boy shouted. 

"Early bird, kiddo," Fish said with a wink, chewing the toast down in a few bites. 

"Joe! Slow down! You'll make yourself sick," Olivia scolded. 

"No time," Fish said, gulping his coffee as fast as he could. 

"You show up an hour early to work every day," Olivia said, her hands on her hips. "If you leave now, you're still in before nine. How are you running late? You could sit down and eat breakfast with your family for once." 

"There's a reason I like to get there an hour early, Livie," Fish said, not rising to the baiting. "Do you know how much e-mail I get every day? I can't concentrate if someone's popping round to ask me a fucking question every five minutes." 

"Joe!" she hissed at him, glancing at David. She hated it when he cursed in front of their son. 

"Sorry, Livie. I'll see you later," he said, kissing her on the cheek.  

"I'll be here," Olivia said with a smile. "Don't forget about tonight!" 

"Tonight?" he asked as he picked up his messenger bag. He stowed his tablet in it. "What's tonight?"

"Our 'homework'? The art exhibition?" Olivia replied, indignant. "I've gotten a sitter for David."

"I don't need a sitter, Mum!" the boy protested. 

 _Bugger all!_ "I'm sorry, Livie. I forgot," Fish said, honestly apologetic. 

Six months ago, Olivia had sat him down to talk seriously about having a second child. The discussion had started out civil but had quickly blown up into a row of epic proportions. Fish loved David, he really did, but he and Olivia had never planned to ever have any children, let alone two. Remaining childless was something they had discussed at length before they'd gotten married and had mutually agreed upon. In fact, the two of them had been so against the idea of children that Olivia had been at a near panic when she'd told Fish about her pregnancy. David's conception had been a complete accident. It was wonderful and amazing but, it was something that Fish had no intention of repeating. 

The difference of opinion had caused a schism in their relationship, completely dividing them. They just weren't the same. They were bickering and fighting almost daily and their marriage was falling apart. It had been a solid relationship that the two of them had built on a sturdy foundation of years but it was crumbling in a matter of months. The rift between them had grown larger and larger until, a few months ago, Olivia had suggested counseling. Fish had agreed even though he hadn't been too keen on the idea. 

He really didn't think it was going well. Most of the time, Fish felt these sessions were nothing more than a tool to wear him down on the idea of having another child. The therapist was clearly on Olivia's side, often treating Fish as if he was completely mental for not wanting another child. He also felt these 'homework assignments' were meant to make him feel that their relationship was in a good place for another child when everything was far from it. There was no middle ground or compromise in this situation. Olivia wanted to have another child and Fish didn't and he could feel the rift between him and Olivia widening every day.  

The therapist had suggested all manner of daft things to make them feel more 'connected'. One that Olivia had embraced fully was doing new things together they never would have thought to do before like taking in a play or a wine tasting… or going to an art exhibition. It was driving him a bit mad. These 'homework assignments' felt fake and forced. 

"You're still coming aren't you?" Olivia whinged. 

"Yes, I said I would," he said with barely restrained patience. "Bye, Livie." 

Fish bent down, kissing David on the head. The boy rubbed at his hair where his father had kissed him. "Dad! Stop!" 

"Bye, kiddo. Love you, have a good day at school," Fish said and then stopped in his tracks. He looked at David for a minute as if he'd never seen him before. Wonder and awe filled him. The boy was his spitting image. _He's mine… this is my son…_ he thought with a smile. He reached down and scooped David up into his arms, despite the boy's protests. He hugged him tightly, feeling tears stinging his eyes. 

"Oi! Dad! Gerrof!" the boy cried, his voice muffled by his father's sport coat. 

Fish put him down and ruffled his hair playfully. "I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah," David said, returning to his breakfast. "Bloody hell." 

"Oi! Watch your mouth!" Fish scolded. Olivia was right. He needed to mind what he said around the boy more. David may have inherited his genius but the last thing Fish wanted him to pick up was his sailor mouth. The boy was well on his way.

He waved at Olivia and then bolted from the house. He got into his car and drove off. At the end of the street he turned right. _Blast!_ He should have turned left! What was the matter with him this morning? Fish got to work over a half hour later than usual. He went through his day. He checked his e-mails. He checked up on his intern, who was still trying to seduce him. It wasn't until the afternoon when he finally managed to get into the lab. By then, the queer feeling had left him and the world seemed to be far more at rights. He settled into his work and by the time he looked up, it was well past when he was supposed to be home. _Fuck all!_

He bolted out of the lab as fast as he could, apologising to his intern for leaving the clean up to him. He raced back up to his office for his bag and then drove home as fast as he could. _Livie's going to kill me…_


	5. Chapter 5

Henry mulled around the gallery, a bit irritated. Why he'd ever agreed to these exhibitions in Manchester and Glasgow was beyond him. Wasn't it enough that he was already represented in Vancouver and New York and London? Henry had grudgingly agreed to this group exhibition. Miranda had been right. There was too much attention on his work and it was making him too well known. More and more art schools and ateliers were requesting him to teach workshops. There was pressure on him from the art gallery that represented him in Vancouver for him to begin social media networking or appear in instructional DVD's. He shouldn't have let Trudy Davenport twist his arm about Manchester and Glasgow but he had a soft spot for the woman. With a sigh, he downed the last of his drink and then deposited the empty glass on a tray. 

The opening night had been last week, to keep interest in the exhibition going, there was a smaller affair tonight. Strangely, it was more crowded than the opening had been and, unlike the opening night, a painting of Henry's had sold. He smiled politely, mingling a little. He excused himself from his conversation to get another drink when he caught sight of a man standing alone in front of one of his paintings. It was an early work, a painting of a young boy swimming underwater with swirls of bubbles streaming out of his nose. There was a gleeful smile on his face.

The man didn't move for several minutes, staring at the painting transfixed. Henry watched on, amused, as the man leaned in and stepped back over and over again. He was about Henry's height with blonde hair. It was a little long and flecked with grey. Henry felt his heart stop and his breath caught in his throat when the man turned his head. He was gorgeous and there was something else that drew Henry in, like gravity. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He nervously approached the stranger. 

"Do you like it?" he asked with a soft smile. 

"Yeah, it's beautiful." The man's Australian voice was slightly nervous. "'This world is but a canvas to our imagination.'"

"Henry David Thoreau," Henry said and his heart beat a little faster. He'd initially been attracted to this man's good looks but it was his intellect that intrigued him now. The gravitational pull between them increased. Henry asked, "What do you like about it?"  

"Ermm… dunno, I don't know much about art," he replied, honestly, waving at the painting. "I… uhh, I like the blue." 

Feeling bold, Henry smiled and took the man by the arm and backed him up a few steps. Henry could smell his aftershave. It was a crisp smell that was somehow familiar to him. He waved at the painting in front of him. 

"First, take in the entire painting, slowly, as a whole," he said, waving his hand in front of him. "Yes, you see beauty but what attracted you to examine this piece? Does the painting evoke a feeling? Bring up a memory?"

"Freedom, bliss, innocence," he said in quick succession. "It reminds me swimming at the beach with my family as a boy." 

"The artist would be pleased he brought back happy memories for you," Henry said with a bright smile. He took a few steps back and held his hand out. "Henry." 

"Joe," Fish said, shaking the hand.  

"Joe…" Henry murmured the name. A crooked smile came across his face. He felt like a lovesick boy. Butterflies swam in his stomach and his knees began to wobble at the accent. "Australia or New Zealand?" 

Fish smiled. "Australia." 

"What brings you to Manchester from all the way down under?" 

"I live here," Fish said, smiling a bit. The nervous smile warmed Henry's heart. 

"Have you come to the show with friends or are you here… alone?" Henry asked, hopeful. 

"Umm… uhh…" Fish hesitated. He looked around a bit as if seeking someone to rescue him from this situation. Was this man blushing? It was adorable. Henry immediately recognised the discomfort's origin. _Ah, straight…_

"My apologies that I've made you uncomfortable," Henry said, sincerely. He took a step away, backing more than a full arm's length from Fish. He studied Fish's face and body with his artist's eye. Henry wanted to sketch him before he forgot the details - the intelligent sparkle to the hazel eyes, the laugh lines around the mouth, the slight wave to the hair… He was also trying to stamp back the more erotic images floating in his mind. He tried to stop wondering what this man's bottom lip would taste like or what those strong looking fingers would feel like wrapped around his… 

"Please, excuse me," he said, quickly. Henry felt blood rushing to inappropriate places. Regret welled up in him, and he sadly said, "It was good to meet you, Joe." 

"Yeah, you too… Henry…" Fish said with small smile on his lips. 

Henry was so distracted, he missed the slightly breathless sound to Fish's voice. The moment hung between them and the desire to drag this man off and snog him senseless nearly overwhelmed him. Henry swallowed, his throat dry. 

"I'm pleased you like my work," Henry added, waving at the painting. He walked away and disappeared into the gallery office. He opened the printer and took out a stack of paper. He snagged a pen from the desk and started to draw, trying to get the man's face down as quickly as he could. Frustrated with the poor paper and ball point pen, Henry reached for his bag. He pulled out his travel sketchbook and several pencils. He took off his suit jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. He slipped the cufflinks out of his cuffs, rolled his sleeves up and began drawing again but he didn't stop with just Fish's face. He drew sketch after sketch and they became more and more strange. He had no idea where all these images in his mind were coming from… including several nudes. Time ran away with him and suddenly, there was a knock at the door. 

"Mr. Blount?" 

It was one of the gallery employees. Henry gathered up the papers, and his sketchbook, putting them away. He opened the door. 

"So this is where you vanished off to," the young woman said brightly. She took in Henry's relaxed appearance with concern. The man was always so formal. "Are you all right?"

"My apologies, Miss Lane, I was feeling unwell," Henry lied.  

"You do look a bit flushed," she pointed out. She reached up, resting the back of her hand against Henry's forehead. "I always come down with something when I travel. No air circulation on planes. Another one of your pieces has sold. Why don't you slip out? The party's almost over anyway."

Henry smiled. "Thank you, Miss Lane." 

"Fluids and rest, that's what you need. Vitamins," she insisted, patting him on the shoulder. 

Henry dropped his cufflinks into his pocket and draped his jacket over his arm. He shouldered his bag and smiled. "I think that is precisely what I require. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Lane. Please, don't hesitate to call me should you need me for anything." 

"Your obligations are done for this exhibition," she said with a shrug. "Feel better and safe trip when you go on to Glasgow." 

Henry stepped out of the office and craned his neck. He searched each face looking for Fish but it seems the Australian had left. Henry's heart sank a bit. He'd wanted one more glimpse of him, perhaps one more smile… He headed out to the car park and drove back to his hotel. The minute he was there, Henry began organising his sketches of the mysterious man. He spread them out on the coffee table in his suite, flicking his eyes from one sketch to the next. He drew a few more detailed drawings, slowly. 

One was of Fish laying backwards across a hotel bed, nude, with his legs tangled in the sheets. Henry really had no idea where any of these images were coming from. Even though it was getting late, he opened his portable easel. He selected the largest panel he'd brought with him and began to paint, almost manically. It didn't take him long before Joseph Fischer's face was smiling at him. 

Henry sat there, captivated. _So handsome…_ his heart fluttered in his chest. The feelings bubbling up in Henry confused him. No one had ever captivated him so quickly. The process of painting this face had felt familiar to him, as if he'd done it before. Henry had known every value, shape and colour. Each stroke of his brush had brought on deja vu. As he gazed at the painting, Henry felt profound love and devotion swimming just out of his reach, as if he was remembering a dream. 

With infinite care, he laid the wet panel down on the table. He went about cleaning up, washing his brushes and putting away his things. The whole time, Fish's face floated in his memory. He scrubbed the paint from underneath his fingernails and changed into his night clothes. He looked at the clock. It was ridiculously late. After he'd climbed under the blankets, he closed his eyes. 

_Joe…_


	6. Chapter 6

Jack weaved his way through the crowded spaceport, heading for the proper hanger. His greatcoat flapped behind him. You see enough of these places, and one just starts to look like the next one, no matter what century you were in or what planet you were on. It was pretty much like a busy airport terminal back on Earth. There were shops and stands where people were selling their wares or food. Jack stopped at an ucha stick vendor. He hadn't had one in over a hundred years. It had been a favourite treat of his. The ucha was a sap, similar to maple syrup but less smokey in flavour and slightly citrusy. The trees grew on a suffocatingly hot planet and the sap was rock solid anywhere humans could live without fearing instantaneous heat stroke. It was a common sweet in Jack's time. He sucked on his treat as he moved through the spaceport. It didn't take him long to locate the proper hanger. Duggie's orange skin was a dead give away. He was loading a few boxes and crates into a small ship. 

With the treat still in his mouth, he waved and shouted, "Hey Duggie!" 

"Jack-Jack!" the bright orange man said with a smile. He waved back. "Come! Meet everyone!"

Behind Duggie, were two Ravenali, a male and a female. Jack stared at the two of them in wonder. He'd never seen one Ravenali, let alone two. These two didn't know it, but in a few thousand years, their planet's moon would have a cataclysmic geological event. It would spell disaster for their home world. Their heart shattered and the soul of their people gone, the Ravenali scattered across the galaxy. They were never really able to re-establish themselves on a new world. The small pockets of their species would survive for a while but by Jack's time, their population numbers had dropped below the minimum number for viability. They were doomed to extinction. 

When Jack had been in primary and secondary school, there had been an entire subject devoted to extinct and dying species like the Ravenali and their cultures. There were many, too many some might say, but the Ravenali were taught in detail because their art and science were some of the richest in the universe. 

With blue-grey skin, scaly hands and feet, they had sparse feathers on their bodies but that was where the bird-like features ended. Ravenali tended to not wear much clothing, the males more so than the females but this space port was chilly for their species. Both Ravenali were wearing coveralls. Jack immediately saw the difference between the genders. The male was much smaller than the female. His plumage was shorter but much brighter than his female counterpart. The female had the large, characteristic plume on her head though. Jack saw that plume change from pink to light yellow. The color was supposed to indicate mood and this one didn't like him. 

"Gavia, Underleaf Grove of the eighth branch, first clutch," he said. He tilted his head to the right and held both of his hands out in front of him. The palms were forward and the wrists at shoulder level, just in front of his chest. The Ravenali greeting of friendship. 

"Soolla, Underleaf Grove of the eighth branch, second clutch," she said, repeating the same gesture. 

 _Siblings_ , Jack thought. The first name was that of the individual. The second was the area they were born. The branch level signified social caste. Eighth branch meant these two were the Ravenali equivalent of upper middle class. Gavia was the older sibling, born from an earlier clutch. 

Jack left the ucha stick in his mouth and held out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness." 

The two Ravenali looked at each other. Jack laughed and smiled around the stick in his mouth. He reached out and took Gavia's right hand in his, pumping it up and down. "It's called a handshake." 

Soolla's plume started to turn purple. She was amused. She grasped Jack's other hand, trying to imitate him. 

"Duggie says you have unique skills," Gavia said, letting go of Jack's hand. He looked at it for a minute, as if trying to decide whether or not to wipe it off on his tunic. 

"I know my way around a thing or two," Jack said. He sucked on the ucha stick in a slightly obscene manner. Duggie rolled his eyes a bit but the uncouth behaviour was lost on the Ravenali. Jack ducked his head, walking around the ship. He shoved the stick back into his mouth and lifted his arms up to run his hands over the hull. 

He said around the sweet, "Katoki scout vessel, class six. These are some interesting modifications you've made to the engine assembly."

He swirled his tongue around the ucha stick and turned to Gavia and Soolla. He smiled and winked. 

"How does a Tellurian get off of Earth and know the things you know?" Gavia asked, eyeing Jack suspiciously. 

"I'm not Tellurian," Jack said, shrugging. He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Tellurian was a common term used in today to describe the humans that were born on Earth. It would continue to be used all the way into the fifty first century and beyond. Jack was not from Earth. He was from an outlying colony world, the fifty first century version of the arse end of nowhere. Tellurian was a term of snobbery in Jack's time and he disliked it. 

The two Ravenali looked at each other. Soolla's plume was becoming a lighter yellow. She was suspicious. Likely, they both were. Gavia crouched and darted forward. Jack anticipated the move, grabbing Gavia's arm as it arced around. He twisted, sweeping his leg across. He impacted Gavia's knee in just the right spot and the Ravenali went down. Jack gave him his best ten thousand watt smile and held out his hand. He hadn't taken the attack personally. The Ravenali said you never truly knew someone until you fought them. 

Gavia looked up at Jack in astonishment. What he didn't know was that Jack was familiar with the martial arts of his people. It was taught at the Time Agency because it was effective against a wide range of bipedal species - the dominant life form type in the Great and Bountiful Human Empire. 

The Ravenali allowed Jack to help him to his feet. Jack continued to beam until he heard a shuffle behind him. The smile vanished from his face and he drew his Webley, turning. He pointed the gun straight at Soolla's head.

"I'm only proving myself once. I'm not hurting for the job. Do we have an understanding?" Jack asked. He cocked the gun, unsure if the Ravenali would understand the gesture. They seemed to. 

"You carry your share," Gavia said. He glared at his sister a bit. Her plume was turning a deeper yellow. She was getting angry but Jack had no idea if it was with him or her brother. Gavia may be the older sibling but the Ravenali were a matriarchal society. 

"You carry your share," Soolla said. "The split will be as we agreed, Duggie." 

"Of course, Sool-Sool," Duggie said, nodding. 

Jack uncocked his gun and holstered it. He grinned and winked at Soolla. "If you want a little one on one action… maybe later." 

Soolla's plume went from a light yellow to a dark, vibrant purple. She was amused again. Jack thought maybe he saw it pass through orange, but just a flash. He waggled his eyebrows at her and saw the orange at the base of the plume before it turned purple again. She was interested. 

"That goes for you too," Jack said, clapping his hand on Gavia's shoulder. He grabbed one of the crates they were loading and carried it up into the cargo bay.


	7. Chapter 7

Ianto looked up from his magazine as the bell on the door tinkled. His smile widened as he took in the sight of an extremely pregnant Gwen Cooper. She waddled into the room, a smile on her face, waving brightly. He hurried around the counter to take her arm.

"What are you doing here!?" he exclaimed, hugging her as tight as her belly would allow. "You shouldn't be up and about! Didn't the doctor put you on bed rest?" 

"Limited activity, thank you very much," she said, playfully slapping his arm. "I can move about just fine as long as I nap. I'm not supposed to lift anything more than a stone but I can take short walks. I'd say walking across the Plass counts as short."

"Where's Rhys?" Ianto asked. Then he cried, "You didn't drive here yourself did you?!"

"He's waiting in the car," she said, rubbing at her back. "I didn't want to walk all the way down the garage hallway. Bloody hormones are giving me vertigo so I didn't want to risk the invisible lift either." 

"Here, let me," he said, sitting her down on a chair. He started kneading at her back. Ianto was the only one that Gwen allowed to spoil her. She got surly and defensive with everyone else, including her own husband. 

"Oh, that's heavenly that is," she said with a sigh. "He's been kicking me something fierce." 

"He's like his Mam," Ianto said, affectionately. He dug his thumbs into the knots in her back. "So you didn't answer me, what are you doing here? Popping round for a visit?" 

Gwen patted her large purse. "I came to see Miranda. Andy thinks he may have a case for us." 

Ianto's hands slowed and Gwen could feel rather than see the spectacular eye roll. 

"He shouldn't be bothering you with all that. You're on leave. He calls here at least twice a week with something he thinks is a 'spooky-do'. Keeps dropping hints about a position. He's not cut out for this sort of thing, Gwen, you know that. That woman's been thinking about giving him a chance anyway. Where that daft ice queen gets the idea-" 

"Stop it, Ianto. You need to show her some respect," Gwen interrupted, hotly. 

When Her Majesty had denied Ianto's request for her promotion and Miranda had come into the team, Ianto and Gwen had been the most resistant. The two of them, in private, had never used Miranda's name to refer to her. She was always a wide variety of rather nasty nicknames. Ianto's favourite had been to not use anything at all, merely referring to her as 'that woman'.

"You're on leave. You're not second in command now," Ianto snipped. He stopped rubbing her back and when she turned, he glared at her. "I don't get what the fuck she's done to make everyone-"

"Enough, Ianto!" Gwen snapped. She shook her head. This wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. 

It had taken a long time but Miranda had earned Gwen's trust. The real turning point had been when Miranda had saved Rhys's life, nearly at the cost of her own. As always, the Harwood's manager had provided Torchwood with a lorry on the sly. Rhys had just finished helping Miranda and Ianto load a crashed probe into the back. Ianto had walked away to help Cameron with some such thing but Rhys had stayed behind, standing behind the lorry, chatting with Miranda. The probe had begun to beep strangely and then exploded. Had it not been for the greater speed and strength of Miranda's immortality, she wouldn't have reacted as quickly as she had. She pushed Rhys out of the way, flinging herself between him and a gigantic piece of metal plate. Like a saw blade, the plate had sliced into Miranda's chest, nearly cutting her in two. Had it impacted Miranda's body not two inches higher, it would have taken her head off. 

Gwen had been shocked. The removal of the immortal woman's head would spell the end of her but she hadn't hesitated. She'd thrown herself between Rhys and something she'd known could have meant permanent death. Gwen had never doubted her again. After that, she'd realised how unfair and cruel she'd been taking her anger and resentment out on the poor woman. She tried but she'd never been able to convince Ianto to give her any kind of chance. 

"I know Miranda's not your favourite person in the world, Ianto, but she came into this kicking and screaming too. Yes, none of us trusted her as far as we could throw her when she first started but it's been years. She's proven that she's been honest with us. _She_ told us the truth about herself straight away. _She_ didn't hide. _She_ didn't lie. How many times do we owe our lives to her?" 

Frustrated, Gwen struggled to her feet and shook her head at her friend. "It's been _years_ , Ianto. I thought you let all that go and moved on. I don't understand why you won't at least give her a chance."

"I have," he snapped, turning away from her. He pressed the button behind the counter. "Her and Tosh are having lunch in the office." 

Gwen reached out and patted Ianto's hand on the counter. Why was it so strange that the hands' fingers were bare? 

"He's not coming back, Ianto. He's gone," she said sadly. 

"I know," he snapped again. 

She squeezed his hand. Jack's disappearance had affected Ianto the most. After Lisa, they'd all made an effort to not let Ianto fade into the background. He'd become an important part of the Torchwood family and then Jack had disappeared. So much of the way Ianto was now reminded Gwen of how he was back when he had a Cyberwoman hidden in the basement. He was just as withdrawn, but there was an anger there. That anger manifested itself as hot headedness and belligerence. Ianto's first death and rebirth into immortal life had made him even more so. He thought the rest of the team didn't know but Gwen knew that unlike Miranda, Ianto didn't fight just to defend himself. Ianto had been immortal for years and Gwen knew he had quite a few heads under his belt. Sometimes she still saw the kind, determined young man who'd risked everything to save the woman he loved, but those glimpses were becoming less and less frequent. That was what she hated Jack for the most. She hated him for destroying Ianto's spirit, for leaving the man with a hole in his heart that he had nothing to fill with but hate and anger. The worst part was that Ianto didn't even realise it was Jack's leaving that had done it. Even to this day, Ianto never referred to it as 'Miranda's office' or 'her office'. 

 _Poor thing's head's been flooded by a giant river in Egypt…_ she sighed to herself.


	8. Chapter 8

"I thought he may have had something," Gwen said. She leaned back in the chair, scratching at her belly. The skin itched something fierce. 

Miranda shook her head. She pushed the folder back at her second in command. "Though I would've liked to give PC Davidson the benefit of the doubt as well, Cooper, but we investigated this incident last week. There was nothing alien about it, merely a hoax concocted by a few warped individuals." 

"It takes all sorts," Gwen said with a shrug. She put the file back into her bag. "I'll ring Andy and let him know."

Miranda got up from her seat and walked around the desk. She leaned against it, smiling at Gwen fondly. She took her friend's hand and patted it gently. "I am glad to see you, Gwen. I've missed you." 

"I'm bored to tears at home," she admitted. 

"You won't be once that little one arrives," Miranda said, smiling. She dropped Gwen's hand and folded her arms over her chest. "Which brings us to another discussion. You shouldn't have come in with this. You are on bed rest." 

"I'm at thirty six weeks," Gwen protested. "I'm not on bed rest, just limited activity!"

"Neither here nor there. I know you are growing impatient and restless but you are the best incubator for your son," Miranda insisted. While Miranda had restricted the former PC to the Hub at the very start of her pregnancy, once she'd received the report about Gwen's rising blood pressure, she'd stripped her from active duty. Gwen had been on medical leave for a week now. "Which brings me to your maternity leave-" 

"I am not coming out of the field when I come back!" Gwen snapped. 

Miranda held up her hand calmingly. "You _will_ be taking four weeks." 

Gwen started to form a pout and crossed her arms. "Two weeks, Miranda." 

"I will allow you to return to work after _four_ weeks and _only_ after four weeks. If I have to suspend you, I will," Miranda said, darkly. "When you return, you will not have your field clearance-"

Gwen started to shout over her, "Like bloody hell I won't!"

"-for a further four weeks," Miranda said, her voice rising over Gwen's. "You will have to retake all of your field certifications when you return. It is your decision but I wish you'd reconsider taking at least twenty six weeks." 

The smoldering look on her second's face didn't phase Miranda one bit. She said, in a calm voice, "I am forcing the four weeks upon you for a reason, Gwen. You may find your perspective different once your son is in your arms. You should think about your options." 

A look of frustrated indecision replaced the smoldering one and Gwen said in a soft voice, "Rhys is on me all the time about finding a different job. Do you know what Suzie said to me before she put a bullet through her brain? She asked me how you can do any other job after this one? She told me it gets inside you and she was right." 

Miranda took Gwen's hand again. "I'm not asking you to leave, Gwen. You're one of the finest field operatives I have had the privilege to work with but you are also the longest serving in the history of Torchwood. I do not wish to frighten you but it is nothing short of a miracle you've lived this long. I don't want your son, already so wanted and loved, to grow up without his mother nor for Rhys to become a widower. Torchwood isn't black and white. We can tailor your life here to balance with your life at home."

Gwen nodded, the wheels in her head turning. "I'll think about it." 

"That is all I ask," she said, smiling. She patted Gwen's hand and returned to her side of the desk, sitting down. She said, hesitantly, "I decided to appoint a temporary second in your place… Ianto Jones." 

"What? Ianto?" Gwen gasped. "Tosh is more experienced." 

Miranda shook her head. "Tosh has more field experience, yes, but Jones is the more logical choice for an administrative role. He knows more about this place than anyone. The politicians know him. They like him. He may be short and surly with me but he is quite diplomatic. Tosh doesn't have the knack for politics." 

"Neither do I," Gwen pointed out. 

"Yes, but you have a force of personality that Toshiko lacks."

Gwen gave Miranda a nasty look.

"That didn't come out right," Miranda said, defensive. "Toshiko has a different force of personality. There is a subtle art to politics that lacks the elegant straight forward nature of the maths she's used to. I also don't want my relationship to cause issue nor interfere with the smooth running of Torchwood."  

Gwen had to admit that was a valid reason. Miranda was often harder on Tosh at work than everyone else because she didn't want to give the appearance of favouritism. The only thing they two of them did abuse a bit was the schedule. Miranda and Tosh were always scheduled for the same day off. If Tosh became second in command that would no longer be possible. 

"Do you think Ianto will accept?" Gwen asked. 

Miranda shrugged at the other woman. "I've no idea but I certainly hope he does. Jones is growing complacent and for an immortal of the Game that is not healthy. His work is exceptional but stagnant. He cleans up after us, he gets us everywhere on time. He organises the archives but he is capable of so much more." 

Gwen couldn't help but agree there. With Jack gone, they'd needed someone else in the field so they'd handed Ianto a gun and trained him up but he hadn't taken to it. Once Ianto had become immortal, Miranda had insisted he take a more active role in the field to protect the mortal team members and he had, albeit reluctantly. Gwen glanced at her watch and sighed. "Rhys will be wondering if I got swallowed up." 

"Before you go… I need your opinion on one more thing," she said nervously and reached into her desk drawer. She handed the small box to Gwen who flipped it open and squealed. 

"Shh!" Miranda said, casting a nervous glance through the window out into the Hub. 

"Oh, Miranda, it's beautiful!" she said, staring down at the diamond ring. 

"Do you think Tosh will like it?" Miranda asked, nervously. 

"She's going to love it," Gwen assured and then winced. 

"You think so? I wasn't sure…" 

"Oh stop that!" Gwen said, smiling wide. "Tosh is head over heels for you!" 

Miranda blushed. 

"Miranda Ryan blushing, now I've seen everything," Gwen said, trying to get to her feet. "She's going to be all sparkles, you'll see! You ring me the minute she says yes!"


	9. Chapter 9

Uncharacteristically, Henry had had a bit of a lie in. He'd gotten into bed quite late… again. For the past few days, he'd done little but draw and paint the enigmatic Australian he'd met at the gallery. He'd work all day and sometimes late into the night. Now, the man had begun to invade his dreams. Last night's had been so wonderful, peaceful and serene. Fish had been laying in bed next to him, his legs tangled in the sheets. His hair was tousled with pillow creases on his face. Henry had dreamed that he was laying in bed watching the rise and fall of Fish's chest with his eyes as the man slept with warmth and affection in his heart. The dream had taken an even more pleasant turn as Fish had rolled, stretched and woken. He'd given Henry a content, drowsy smile and said _I love you, Henry…_ A sharp noise outside had woken him from the blissful dream. 

He'd stretched out his hands, searching for Fish as the sleep had left him. For a moment, he'd been confused when his hands had found nothing but cool sheets. He laid back on the pillows, looking left and right. He sighed. No matter how large a bed he slept in, Henry always slept in the middle but This was the third day in a row he'd woken on the far left side. Loneliness filled him. With a sigh, Henry threw back the blankets, scrubbing at his face with his hands. How could he miss this man so much? They'd barely spoken for more than a few minutes. Maybe Henry would be able to find this man? He could check at the gallery, perhaps Fish had signed one of the lists or left an e-mail address… _No…_ Henry thought, shaking his head. He was never going to see him again and that thought sent a pang of despair through him that made no sense to Henry. He needed to forget about him. For good. Hoping exercise would clear his mind, he decided to go for a long run and then practice the sword.

The exercise didn't clear Fish fully from his mind but it offered a welcome distraction. Henry decided that he also needed to stop drawing and painting this man. This was turning into an unhealthy obsession. After picking up a sandwich, he stopped in Cathedral Gardens to eat and sketch passersby. The act of people watching was something Henry always enjoyed. He considered it a unique challenge to quickly capture someone's movements as they went about their day. Once he'd gotten halfway through his sandwich, he began drawing a pensioner feeding crumbs to some birds. A shadow passed across his paper. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me," an amused voice with blunted vowels said from behind him. 

Henry turned and his heart stopped. Surprised, he exclaimed, "Doctor Fischer!"

 _How did I know to call him doctor?_ Henry shook off the confusing thought. 

"Oh it's 'Doctor Fischer' now is it? It was 'Joe' yesterday so why don't we stick with that," Fish said with teasing smile. 

Henry's heart melted but he recovered quickly. He shot Fish a bemused expression and quipped, "And you have run into me so does that not make you the stalker?" 

Fish laughed. It was a deep sound that Henry wanted to lock way just for himself. The handsome face and gentle smile had Henry dumbstruck. He thought he'd never see this man again but here he was. _Perhaps there is destiny in the world…_ Henry stood up and gestured at the bench. He'd thought he'd never see this man again and here he was. Before he lost his nerve, he asked, quickly, "Would you join me?" 

With a broad smile, Fish sat down and began setting out his food. Henry watched him, nervously and caught sight of the ring glittering on the man's left ring finger. _Straight… and married…_ Henry thought with profound disappointment.  

"Have you been married long?" he asked. 

"Ten years," Fish said, flatly. He looked at Henry's hands, smiling at the ruby and gold ring on Henry's own left ring finger. "You?" 

A fist tightened around Henry's heart as he thought of Matthew. _The light of my life…_ He said, softly, "I'm a widower." 

"Oh fuck," Fish muttered under his breath. Awkwardly, he said, "I'm sorry…" 

"You weren't to know," Henry said gently. He flipped to a new page. He had a more interesting subject than an elderly man feeding birds. He waved at the blank paper. "Do you mind at all?" 

Fish paused with a crisp halfway to his mouth. "You want to draw me eating?" 

"Capturing movement is a part of my work," Henry said. It was only half a lie. 

Fish shrugged and resumed eating his lunch. Henry took that as permission and began to draw. 

"Not hungry?" he asked, pointing at Henry's half eaten sandwich. 

"I often only eat half," Henry said, shrugging. "Usually by then, I've tired of the rest." 

"What is it?" 

"Skipjack tuna and egg mayonnaise," he said, not looking up from his sketchbook. 

Fish, politely, pushed his untouched sandwich half towards Henry. "Swap?" 

Deja vu washed over Henry like a crashing wave. He put down his sketchbook and accepted Fish's sandwich half, replacing it with his own. He bit into the sandwich, not bothering to ask what it was. He had no idea how, but he knew it was a turkey club. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome…" Fish said, quietly. "I'm sorry, I forgot your last name. Was it-"

"Blount," Henry said before Fish had finished speaking. 

"-Fitzroy?" Fish asked. 

The two men looked at each other strangely. Henry couldn't believe that name had just come out of Fish's mouth. 

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd said Fitzroy yesterday or that I'd read it somewhere at the gallery," Fish said, nervously. 

"Henry is fine," he replied. He looked at Fish curiously. Fitzroy wasn't a common last name but it still could have been an honest mistake; nothing more than a strange coincidence. 

Henry continued to eat while occasionally glancing at Fish. He felt butterflies in his stomach and heat on his cheeks. _What in God's name am I doing?_ Henry scolded himself. This was preposterous. Everything about this man screamed straight. Even if Fish was bisexual, he was married. He'd made a commitment to someone and that someone was not Henry. 

A homosexual lifestyle was far more dangerous in the past than it was now. Men had been expected to marry women and produce children. In the past, many men and women had entered into so-called lavender marriages for appearances and their own safety. Even in this modern era of acceptance, homosexuals still faced a great deal of discrimination and the practice of entering into convenient marriages continued but Henry's attitude towards them had changed. 

In the past, he wouldn't have thought twice about engaging in an affair with a married man but, these days, it made him uncomfortable. His reasons weren't that he felt these men should accept their true nature and be open. Henry understood what it meant to have to hide. He'd done it most of his life. In this modern era, it was more of a numbers game. In the past, if Henry had limited himself to unattached men, his choices were extremely limited as men had tended to marry young. Today, men embraced bachelorhood, often remaining unattached sometimes for their whole lives. With more options, Henry was more picky. 

There could be nothing more here than friendship and Henry wanted more… so much more but if friendship was all that they could have, then so be it. Henry felt at ease with Fish, comfortable and relaxed. Oddly, they didn't feel the need to make small talk or fill the silence. They just sat there, Henry sketching and Fish eating, enjoying the quiet companionship. Henry got the distinct impression that Fish was sincerely enjoying the peacefulness. Finally, Fish popped the last bite of Henry's sandwich half into his mouth. He checked his wristwatch. He balled up the paper bag and sandwich wrapper, stuffing it into the crisp bag. 

"I have to get back to work," Fish said, quietly. He didn't look up. 

"What do you do?" Henry asked, genuinely interested. 

"I'm a chemical engineer at a green energy firm," Fish said, absently, "and I teach some chemistry lectures on the weekend." 

Henry waved down at his sketchbook. "I occasionally teach workshops. 'It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken joy in creative expression and knowledge.'"

"Albert Einstein," Fish rattled. The two men grinned at each other and Fish blushed slightly. "I wish I could say I did it because I enjoyed it but my son, David, needs special tutors. I do it for the extra money." 

 _Straight… and married… with a child_ … The idea of a romance with this man was now firmly and completely out of Henry's mind. He was no home wrecker. 

"Thanks for the company," Fish said, waving at the bench. 

"You're most welcome," Henry said, smiling. 

"Maybe we could do this again sometime," Fish said. He smiled broadly and held out his hand.  

Henry took that hand, shaking it firmly. A bolt of lightning went through his chest at the contact. Slightly breathless, he said, "I'd like that." 

The moment stretched between them, their hands still clasped. Henry remembered his dream of Fish in his bed, the soft words he'd whispered. He longed for the fantasy. Fish pulled his hand back and gave Henry a curious look. He raised his eyebrow and one corner of his mouth, as if trying to smother a grin. "You seem a decent bloke, Henry, and I'm flattered, really-"

"But I'm making you uncomfortable again," Henry interrupted. He shut his sketchbook and looked down at the closed cover. "My apologies." 

Fish narrowed his eyes, annoyed. "Okay, Henry, how's about you stop treating me like some straight stereotype. Just because another bloke shows a bit of interest doesn't mean I'm going to have some sort of homophobic fit." He stood up and tossed the crisp bag into the nearest bin. When he turned around, he had a serious look on his face. "If the fact that you find me easy on the eyes means we can't be friends, that's fine with me but I could use a mate these days that can manage more than ten minutes of silence and talks about something other than their kids… 'Just walk beside me and be my friend.'" 

"Albert Camus," Henry said, smiling. He couldn't help it. He actually laughed and held his hand back out. "I believe I can restrain myself." 

Fish shook Henry's hand again then reached into his pocket and dug out his wallet. Henry passed him his pencil and Fish wrote his mobile down on the back of the business card.

"This is my mobile. Lunch again sometime?" Fish asked, passing him the card. 

"That sounds delightful," he replied. Henry slipped the card into his pocket. 

Fish stood up and winked at Henry. He teased, "You're too young for me anyway."  

Henry laughed. He watched as Fish turned and left the park. He knew he shouldn't have agreed. He should've let this lunch be the last time he saw him but something deep down in his heart wanted to keep Fish in his life no matter what.


	10. Chapter 10

It was just over an Earth day since they'd left the spaceport. The ship was very cramped but Jack hadn't minded. It only had four sections - the cargo bay, the habitat pods, the navigation room and the engine room. Jack was sharing one of the habitat pods with Duggie since the ship only had three. There was a small common room that connected all four areas. It was where they all gathered during down time. They were heading to a pair of set coordinates and the ship was basically flying itself so that room was where they all were. 

The time table for the heist was specific. Right now, they were heading to rendezvous with a Syndicate ship to pick up a vital piece of equipment for their job. It was a special beacon that they'd attach to their sensor array. It would send out a signal tuned to the frequency of their engines. It would trick the local satellites into thinking that their little ship belonged. It was nothing short of brilliant and Jack had zero idea how anyone had managed to get a hold of the technology. 

The Crassostrians employed a lot of active security, meaning, security meant to keep people out. They spent a lot of time and effort in making sure that the ships and the people on their pearl growing colonies belonged. It was a good system but the problem with a system like that was that once you were in, everyone assumed you were supposed to be there. The make and model of Gavia and Soolla's ship wouldn't be a problem because the Crassostrians didn't have a standard fleet of repair vessels. They bought random second hand ships all the time, as needed. They'd be just another normal repair ship in the flotsam. 

Even though Jack had proved himself in the Ravenali way, he was still surprised at how easily Gavia and Soolla had welcomed him aboard. Their profit was going to split five ways instead of four with a portion going to the boatman. Jack guessed that it was probably because the split wasn't even and a portion of his share was coming out of Duggie's. But even with the Syndicate's cut and a five way split, an entire crate of Crassostrian pearls was nothing to laugh at. 

A thousand years from now, a full crate would be a fantasy and by the fifty first century, the small bivalve that created the Crassostrian pearl was extinct. In Jack's time, the pearls were almost nonexistent, found only in museums and as a few treasured family heirlooms, but Jack remembered his history. Even at the height of their popularity, which was about now, the pearls were extremely valuable. Within the past hundred years or so the Crassostrians had managed to complete the clam's introduction onto several of their colony worlds, increasing production.

This heist was far from simple but Jack still thought this whole thing was a little too good to be true. The Crassostrians employed local boatmen to harvest the clams. Some of the boatmen, looking to make something on the side, sold a few clams per harvest to the Syndicate or other black market dealers. The Crassostrians tended to look the other way since it was so few but a whole crate? 

Duggie had explained that the crate was from a boatman looking to change his life and find a better way for himself. Jack could understand that. The Crassostrians were good to their boatmen to discourage extensive theft but it was a hard life that you were generally born into. The payout from this crate would give the boatman enough to start over somewhere else. The boatman had no choice really. There was no way to hide the disappearance of an entire crate. If he stayed, the Crassostrians would break every bone in his hands and that was just the start of the breaking. Once the breaking was done, the Crassostrians usually started cutting things off. 

Still, it was a full crate and Jack was positive that the team had plans to skim a few pearls off the top before the crate made it to the Syndicate. Even if it was ten pearls each, no one would notice. _Cufflinks for Ianto_ … he thought wistfully and then shook off the thought. He berated himself for the impulse. That life was behind him.

Jack reached forward and poured himself another drink. Dashing about with the Doctor hadn't been the solution he'd thought it would be. It'd reminded him a lot of the time he'd spent with his former Time Agency partner - nothing more than an adrenaline fueled distraction. 

Since he'd left the Doctor, Jack had done a few odd jobs - freelance work mostly. Now, he was working with Duggie, an old friend he'd thought he'd never see again. It should have made Jack happy but it didn't. The face and voice of Ianto haunted his dreams or kept him awake at night and no amount of booze could wash it away. _He used to keep me warm_ … and suddenly an image of Ianto filled his mind. It was a French beach with the sun shining. Ianto was reading a book and holding his hand while they basked in the hot sun. The Welshman's pale complexion had gone quite pink, a bit burnt. Not taking his eyes off his book, Ianto smiled, kissing Jack's hand. _I love you, Jack_ … 

Jack shook his head. He was remembering some dream, surely. His heart filled with longing and sadness. Jack reminded himself that this was his decision… _my mistake…_ When the Doctor had asked him to travel again, Jack had stood there, looking between the water tower and the Time Lord. It hadn't just been about proving himself. He'd known, in that moment, that there was nothing he could do to make himself worthy of the love and devotion of Ianto Jones. Ianto deserved so much more. He was so much more. It was better this way. Jack had skills. He could make his own way through the universe. For what felt like the millionth time, Jack pushed Ianto out of his mind. 

The Syndicate would pay them their fee and they could be on their way. A big score like this meant that Jack wouldn't have to find work again for a long while and this was just Jack and Duggie's sort of score - everybody lives and everyone comes out on top.

Duggie was asleep in his chair, snoring, his chin tucked into his chest. Centaurians did love their sleep. Soolla was playing some sort of solitaire game that Jack had never heard of involving dice and coloured stones. Gavia was playing a Ravenali lute, the sound soft and breezy. Jack had only heard recordings of the rare and beautiful music. The lutes were still in museums of course, and played among the small patches of survivors but by Jack's time, all the great masters of the instrument were dead. Gavia was far from a great musician but, to Jack, this was what music was all about. It wasn't just about being a virtuoso. What Gavia was doing was part of the Ravenali's soul; a soul, that by Jack's time, was fading. Jack was just sitting there, his feet up on the table. His eyes were closed as he listened to the music. Maybe that's what he'd do when this was over - visit the Ravenali home world like a good Time Agent. 

A lot of what the Time Agency did was law enforcement. When you had time travel technology available, people used it for all sorts of ends. But a lot of people didn't realise how much history the Time Agency preserved. It was why Jack had been so shocked when he’d heard on the wind that the Agency had been shut down. There were whole divisions of the Time Agency that dealt with nothing more than cultural preservation. There had been agents that did nothing but travel back in time to record and observe history or dead and dying cultures; cultures like Gavia and Soolla's. 

Gavia stopped playing when a high pitched whirl from the navigation room echoed through the cabin. Disappointed the music had stopped, Jack sat up. 

"Is that the proximity sensors?" he asked. 

Soolla nodded. She got up and went into the navigation room. Jack heard the sounds of a conversation over the comms. Soolla walked back into the room and hit the button to open the door to the cargo hold. 

Just as the door slid aside, Jack saw the light from the energy transport beam. It deposited a crate in the middle of the cargo bay. Jack recognised the Crassostrian script on the side. 

"Woah…" he said, softly. "How'd the Syndicate get a hold of this?" 

Duggie said, rubbing his hands together. "Don't look a gift horse in the lips." 

"Mouth. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Duggie," Jack corrected. 

Gavia and Soolla stopped opening the crate and looked at Jack. 

"What? It's an Earth expression," Jack said. He looked at the crate, almost afraid to touch it.

The two Ravenali still looked confused. 

"Duggie's telling me to just be grateful and not question it," Jack supplied. He knew explaining the concept of a beast of burden and examining the teeth would be lost on the Ravenali. Instead, he mumbled, "'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes'." 

The three of them looked at Jack. 

"'I fear the Greeks, even when they bring gifts,'" Jack translated. "It means when your enemy hands you a gift, they're still your enemy and that you should treat them and the gift suspiciously." 

The three aliens ignored the strange expressions that had no meaning to them and started to pry at the top of the crate. Jack didn't bother trying to explain further. The Ravenali and the Centaurians were both very literal species. 

Once the top of the crate was off, Jack whistled. The device was clearly stolen. It was pristine. 

"How do we know this'll work?" Jack asked. 

"The Syndicate's tested it already on another planet," Soolla said. She started pushing the crate towards the common room. The hatch in the middle of that room led down to the engine room. "They're hoping to work this into something regular." 

"Let me help you," Jack insisted, pushing the crate alongside her. "I don't like being a guinea pig." 

"A what?" she asked. 

"A test subject," Jack supplied. He made a frustrated noise. He'd forgotten how difficult it was to communicate with alien species sometimes. He'd gotten so used to human mannerisms and expressions that had no meaning here. He'd lived for over a hundred years on Earth only dealing with xenophobic human beings who hadn't yet made first contact. It had changed his fifty first century mannerisms. In Jack's time, there was a certain way you spoke and acted around alien species to prevent miscommunications. The common languages of the Great and Bountiful Human Empire were meant to be literal and neutral. The large amount of colloquialisms, puns, double entendres and other verbal juggling available in the English language were obsolete in the fifty first century.

"They've used it already. It works," Soolla insisted. 

Once the crate was next to the engine room hatch, Jack turned to Soolla. 

"Yeah, it worked once. That doesn't mean it'll work again. In fact, this makes it more dangerous," Jack said, waving at the crate. 

"What? Why?" Gavia asked. 

"Because the Crassostrians could already know this beacon is out in the open," Jack pointed out. Gavia, Soolla and Duggie were completely thick if they were ignorant of the possibility. Jack knew Duggie and Duggie wasn't completely thick. Jack had also heard the overly innocent tone to Gavia's voice. "We could be walking into a trap. They might be using this as bait to figure out who ripped them off the first time." 

"Jack-Jack, this is our chance to get the Syndicate off our backs for good. The take on this heist? It's the score of a lifetime," Duggie insisted. 

Jack narrowed his eyes at his friend. "What do you mean, Duggie? I thought you said you were square with them! You said you'd already put everything right!" 

Duggie, Gavia and Soolla looked at Jack nervously. 

"This job… it's our chance to make things right," Gavia said, softly. 

Jack looked at the three of them, narrowing his eyes in anger. 

Soolla said, "Gavia and I were supposed to be smuggling pinnipite furs. The shipment went wrong." 

"Soolla and I had to dump the furs," Gavia continued. "We didn't have the money to pay the Syndicate, not after our expenses." 

"And they gave you this job as a way to make things even? Why would they do that, Duggie? Tell me? If you, Gav and Soolla have all gotten on the wrong side of the Syndicate, then why would they give you this chance? Not only that, why would they give you a score of a lifetime along with it?" Jack asked. This was way more than too good to be true. It was a fantasy. "You get on the wrong side of a criminal organisation like the Syndicate and, yeah, you can end up pushed out an airlock but if they don't kill you, then they've got plans for you. What if they're using the three of you so they can see whether or not they can keep using this beacon?" 

"It doesn't matter, Jack," Gavia said, quietly. 

"What's that supposed to mean, Gav?" 

Soolla turned to Jack. Her plume was nearly white. "He means, that this is more than a chance to make things right with the Syndicate. It was an ultimatum. We do this job or they kill us all." 

"What did you get me into, Duggie?" Jack asked, whirling on the Centaurian. 

"I didn't think you'd do it, if I told you all of it!" 

"Duggie!" Jack grabbed him by the shirt. He pushed the thick Centaurian backwards into the wall. 

"Jack! Stop!" Gavia shouted. He tried pulling him off Duggie. 

"I was meeting someone else in that bar when I saw you! You're smarter! You're worth ten of that other one! I knew we'd have a better chance with you!" Duggie yelled. "I'm sorry, Jack-Jack." 

Jack let Duggie go and backed away, huffing. They'd made it sound like they'd taken him on as extra when Jack was just a substitute. The fuss Soolla had made about the split was all for show. "I want an even split." 

"Done," Soolla said. 

He pointed his finger in Duggie's face. "Don't make me sorry I kept you out of Torchwood's cryostasis."

With an angry growl, he whirled for the habitat pod, intent on knocking back a few more hypervodkas.


	11. Chapter 11

Henry's heart skipped several beats as Fish waved at him. He could barely contain his excitement nor keep his eyes off Fish as the other man weaved his way towards him, politely excusing himself as he went. Henry had been looking forward to this lunch all day. It was only Wednesday, but this was their second lunch. Actually, it was the third if you counted their accidental meeting in the park. 

Henry handed the menu to Fish as he sat down. This art cafe had been Fish's suggestion. It was a funky sort of setting with mismatched tablecloths and random art on the walls. Henry suspected that Fish was attempting to cater to his interests. It was quite sweet really but Henry tried not to read into it. His new friend was just trying to be polite - emphasis on the word _friend_. He hadn't expected the cafe's food to be as good as it was. The tea selection was also excellent. Henry had already ordered some.  

"What are you getting?" Fish asked, glancing at the menu.

"I've not decided yet," Henry said. He looked up and down the menu himself. "You?"

"Maybe chicken. This one with the tomato and rocket," Fish said, tapping the menu. 

Just like in the park, the two men planned to swap sandwich halves. They'd done it yesterday as well and Henry could see it was turning into a fun tradition. 

Henry quirked an eyebrow. "Are you objectionable to hoummus?" 

Fish shook his head. "I'm not picky." 

They placed their orders and began their usual animated conversation. Immortals always have to watch what they say, careful not to hint at anything someone might find unusual. Anachronistic behaviour or anything inconsistent with what mortals found 'normal' was generally best avoided. Immortals learned this careful double talk with careful lies of omission and half answers but Henry was too comfortable with Fish. In fact, a few times he'd had to stop himself from accidentally misspeaking. Usually when he first met someone, he was always on guard, watching every word that came out of his mouth. It was natural for Henry to tell Fish the truth and the double talk felt forced. 

When the food arrived, the conversation stopped and the two men ate in silence. Henry subtly watched Fish as he ate. He smiled affectionately at the slight purse to Fish's lips as he chewed and had to stamp back the urge to kiss away a bit of hoummus from the corner of Fish's mouth. Once the dishes were cleared away, Fish checked his watch. Henry felt the same pang of sadness he'd felt yesterday. Fish would need to return to work soon. The other man let out a profound sigh. Though he couldn't tell how, Henry felt there was more behind it than simply returning to a boring task. 

"Is something troubling you, Joe?" Henry asked, concerned. "Perhaps it is not just forms and e-mail?"

Fish laughed, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. Yesterday after Henry had complained about his upcoming show in Glasgow, he'd vented a little about the more boring aspects of his own job but work wasn't what was bothering him today. He and Olivia had had an explosive row last night. He'd actually slept on the sofa. He winced and said, dismissively, "It's nothing, Henry…" 

He trailed off. Henry was an excellent listener but Fish didn't want to entangle his new friend in his web of domestic trouble. With the same dismissive tone, he said, "Just a bit of a domestic. Nothing you need to hear about." 

Normally, Henry tried his best to hide his feelings from Fish but a sliver escaped into the look he was giving him. "Joe, I would not have asked if I weren't genuinely concerned." 

Fish opened his mouth to shrug off his troubles again, but instead, launched into long and detailed explanation of them. He talked and talked and talked and didn't stop. He told Henry about how his marriage was falling apart over the issue of enlarging their family and how he and Olivia had drifted apart from each other and all their friends. Fish confided that socialising only around children made him feel as if he wasn't an adult anymore. He told Henry all about the counseling and how he felt the therapist and his wife were merely trying to wear him down.

Mortified, he also confessed that their social life wasn't the only thing that had dried up. With guilt, he spoke of his fear that Olivia would take matters into her own hands and that they hadn't been intimate in months. Years ago, Fish would've sworn up and down that Olivia would never conceive a child without his permission but he also would have sworn up and down that Olivia would never _want_ to conceive another child. 

Fish prattled on for at least an hour. When he was done, he couldn't believe it. He'd just spilled his deepest feelings and most personal thoughts to someone he'd met not even a week ago. Henry hadn't interrupted him once. He'd just sat there calmly and patiently listening as Fish vented. It was just what he'd needed. He felt light, as if he'd just dropped a weight he'd been carrying for a long time. He was relieved. Henry was still silent and seemed to be gauging whether or not he was done speaking. 

"Thanks for listening to all that, Henry," Fish said, nervously. He picked up his mobile and sent a quick text to his boss saying that he'd gotten side tracked and would be very late getting back to the office. "Christ, I must sound mental." 

"Why do you say that, Joe?" Henry asked. He put his elbows onto the table, clasping his hands in front of him. He leaned forward. Everything he'd heard didn't make Fish sound mental. It made Henry believe that Fish was so very much alone. It broke his heart and that made him want to hold Fish and never let him go. 

"You just met me what? Four? Five days ago? And now I'm going on about all this?" Fish said with a shake of his head. He took a sip of his tea and pointed at Henry. "If I was sitting where you are right now, I'd think I was mental." 

Fish might not return Henry's feelings but there was no way Henry would turn his back on him when he was so troubled. He gave Fish a serious look. "Nonsense, Joe. Your dilemma is profound. You've obviously had no one in whom to confide or with whom speak. I'm sorry you have held this burden for so long, alone." 

"I don't know what to do, Henry," Fish said, shaking his head. "I've been with Livie for nearly fourteen years and it's gone tits up overnight. I thought we'd built something solid… something that was going to last…" 

"I know it isn't my place, Joe-"

"Henry, I've just rabbited on for an hour. I think it's your place now," Fish tried to joke. 

"Even the most solid of relationships can be shaken. You seem the most distraught because a simple disagreement has caused so much disharmony but there is nothing simple about this, Joe." 

Henry broke off as the server refilled their tea cups. 

"Thanks," Fish said, smiling. When the server was out of earshot again, he said, "I get this is a huge difference of opinion. I just thought that it would take more than one big disagreement to shake us." 

Henry sipped his own tea. "Joe, I mean no offence, nor do I wish to make assumptions about your marriage but in my experience, there is more than one reason for a relationship to break down. Something such as this is often the last straw and not a lone cause." 

Fish admitted, guilty, "We've been drifting apart for years… since David was born really." 

"Do not allow yourself to feel guilty, Joe. You and Olivia were unprepared for the impact a child would have on your relationship, as are many new parents," Henry said, reassuring. 

"David completely took over our lives from day one and she wants to have another… I don't understand it," he said, frustrated. 

"Joe, again, I say this with all delicacy, but perhaps whatever is lacking in your marriage, your wife is seeking to fill with another child." 

Fish immediately felt anger but it wasn't directed at Henry, it was directed at their therapist who hadn't brought up the idea once. It was obvious to Fish now that Henry had said it. 

As if reading Fish's mind, Henry said, "Is it possible that you could switch therapists? Perhaps, find someone more… unbiased?" 

"I've suggested it. Olivia keeps insisting we see this one. She was recommended to us from friends." 

"Friends… with families?" Henry asked, delicately. 

Another lightbulb went off over Fish's head. Again, it was right in front of his face and he hadn't seen it. The friends who had recommended this therapist had two children with a large age gap. Had the situation been similar? Had one partner or the other been against the second child and this therapist had convinced the reluctant partner to relent? Angry, Fish confessed his realisation to Henry. 

"Joe, the choice of whether or not to have children is a profound one. While I have not heard your wife's side of the situation, it certainly sounds as if you are being strong armed. Yes, your son brings you joy but that doesn't change the fact that it was not your choice to become a parent. It is perfectly natural to resist having it forced upon you again. The happiness your son brings you is irrelevant and completely separate from this decision. Another child is another living being - his or her own person," Henry said, sagely. "You've said you don't understand this change in Olivia's opinion but you've also said that you've been socialising only with other parents - people of a certain mindset and opinion…." 

Again, Fish had missed the obvious. Many of the other parents they socialised with frequently asked about when he and Olivia were planning on a second or even third child. At some point, they all had expressed disbelief and even contempt for the fact that Fish and Olivia had only one child. 

"If I may also say, Joe, it sounds like Olivia is an extremely forceful and determined woman. It's understandable that you are fearful she shall take matters into her own hands," Henry said.

"She's not the only one who's guilty on that front, Henry," Fish said. He finally confessed the last piece of guilt. "An old mate of mine is an oncologist. He recommended a urologist to me-" 

"So that you could do precisely what you feared Olivia would do - take the steps towards what you want without consulting her," Henry finished for him. His voice was calm and level, and completely without judgement of chastisement.  

"I feel like such a fucking tosser," Fish said. He leaned forward, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

For a moment, Henry wondered if he should be advising Fish about anything personal. He had deep feelings for this man. To advise him against his wife was devious, edging into immoral, but he felt terribly that Fish was so browbeaten. Henry immediately squashed down the small devil in the back of his mind that was pleased Fish's marriage wasn't a happy one. He immediately felt guilty. He reminded himself, firmly, that there was nothing more than friendship here and that was the end of it. It was his duty as a good friend to advise Fish in an unbiased fashion, to point out all avenues and opinions. That was all he was doing. 

"Joe, listen to me because I am certain that no one has said this to you yet. There is _nothing_ wrong with your point of view. There is _nothing_ wrong with _not_ wanting children. It isn't the social norm, but there is no reason for you to feel guilty for feeling this way." 

After taking a nervous sip of his tea, Henry said, "You need to go home and speak with Olivia. This is a significant decision and while there is no compromise within the decision itself, there are compromises that can be made in how you both deal with it. You're permitting Olivia to set all the rules and conditions because you feel guilty for denying her what she wants. You're giving her all the power, Joe, forgetting the fundamental truth of conceiving life - that it takes _two_ people." 

"I'm bloody tired, Henry," Fish said, shaking his head a bit. The heels of his hands were still pressed into his eyes. "The bickering… the fucking awkwardness in the house." 

"'It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages'," Henry said softly.

"Nietzsche…" Fish muttered. 

Henry reached across the table and squeezed Fish's wrists. To his surprise, Fish didn't pull away. He let his hands fall to the table, squeezing one of Henry's with his own. After looking at his watch, Fish pulled away, leaning back in his chair. 

"Thanks for listening, Henry," he said. He stood up and dropped some notes on the table. "I'm sorry to have chewed your ear off with all this." 

"Nonsense. You can always talk to me, Joe," Henry said, sincerely. 

The other man's abrupt exit had Henry concerned that touching Fish had been overstepping things but before Fish walked away, he put his hand on Henry's shoulder. He gave him a friendly squeeze and a gentle smile. Henry felt his heart melt. He wanted to turn his head and kiss the back of Fish's hand. 

"Thanks again, Henry. I'll ring you later." 

Henry only nodded and smiled. He wasn't sure he could keep himself from sounding as breathless as he felt. He resisted reaching out for a handshake as an excuse to touch him again. Fish turned at the cafe door. He gave Henry a friendly wave and another smile before he turned down the street and out of sight. Henry closed his eyes and sank back in his seat. 

His own reaction to seeing Fish so distraught had crystalized Henry's feelings. He was head over heels in love. It had happened so suddenly and so completely, like a tonne of bricks really. Again, Henry questioned his own motives. He should stop seeing this man but he couldn't. He was being so foolish and so selfish. This was headed only one place for him and that was heartbreak. His feelings weren't reciprocated but he didn't care now. Henry wanted Joseph Fischer in his life any way he could manage it. He pictured Fish's gentle smile and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He missed him already. He wanted to pick up his mobile and text or ring just to hear his voice but he resisted. He needed to keep his distance. It would be easier once he left Manchester. He would restrict himself to e-mails and phone calls or cease contact all together - and that thought sent the lump back up into his throat. Before he left, he wondered if Fish would agree to sit for some drawings or a small portrait. 

He felt a vibration in his pocket. It was a text… from Fish. 

 _Lunch tomorrow?_  

A wide smile broke out over Henry's face as he tapped out his answer of yes.


	12. Chapter 12

Ianto hadn't been too keen on that woman appointing him interim second in command. Miranda had even created a rota that shuffled many of his duties through the rest of the team members, as if he couldn't handle a bit of extra paperwork along with the tidying up. She might be acting like it was a promotion but it certainly didn't feel like it to him. 

When Torchwood had become his life rather than merely a means to save Lisa, Ianto hadn't had any delusions about where that life would lead him - to a sticky end and an early grave. With a stomach full of rats nearly every day, Ianto hadn't much cared that Torchwood would mean his death and he admitted that sometimes he'd hoped for precisely that. He'd had no where else to go anyway. And then there was Jack. 

It wasn't anything like a romance novel. Visiting Jack's bed - if you could call that ridiculous thing in his bunker a bed - didn't make everything right again but it had taken some of the pain away. Basically, Ianto had simply liked feeling good and escaping, even if it was only for a few hours. It had all started out as just sex but after the riftugees and the suicide of John Ellis, Ianto had extended the first olive branch. 

Jack had come back to the Hub with John's body, reeking of exhaust. His face had been streaked with tears and there'd been a haunted look in his eyes. There'd been no sex that night, just Ianto holding Jack while he cried and talked. After that, he'd started to see a different side to the man. Jack had begun to confide in him and to tell him things. He may not have told Ianto he was immortal, but he'd revealed the existence of Flat Holm and a host of other secrets… 

Ianto had always considered himself straight. Sure, having sex with another man was the exact opposite definition of straight but it was just sex. It was physical enjoyment and sexual satisfaction. He was a man with needs after all. But just before Abaddon, Ianto had thought, maybe, there'd been the start of something more between them. He'd started to fancy Jack in a way he'd never thought possible and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Jack didn't fancy him too. It was little things that Ianto noticed like how Jack had started to act disappointed that he never spent the night. Even the sex had taken on a different quality. He'd thought he'd seen the possibility of happiness, the chance of love. 

When Jack had died, they'd all thought it was for good but he'd revived. After that awkward near handshake, Jack's arms found their way around him. Ianto had thought that would never happen again and that had upset him more than it should have. He'd been so relieved that he'd decided to talk to Jack and tell him how he felt. 

But then Jack had vanished and left Ianto dangling out on a limb and a bit embarrassed. Jack had pretty much announced their… their… whatever the fuck it was to the rest of the team when he'd kissed him. Ianto had thought there'd been something more in that kiss but it had all been in his imagination. He was nothing more than Jack's part time shag. Ianto had been wrong and the longer Jack stayed away, the more the embarrassment had turned into foolishness. 

He shook off the thoughts. It was best to keep busy. When he let his mind wander, it always went down the same caverns so he focused his attention on the task at hand. He was organising some items to be filed but his careful arrangement of the trolley slowed and eventually stopped as his thoughts drifted again.

The idea of becoming interim second in command annoyed him because he couldn't see the point but mostly it focused a spotlight onto an ugly truth. Once again, he was wondering what he was still doing here at Torchwood. Once his sword training had ended, Duncan had made suggestions about returning to university or trying out a different city but Ianto had dismissed them. After such an earthquake, it didn't make sense to him to start somewhere new, creating more aftershocks. _One geological shift at a time_ , he'd told himself. Duncan hadn't been the only one to introduce the subject. Since he'd become immortal, Miranda had told him, several times, that if he wanted to go off and explore his options that he'd be free to do so without retcon. It was kind of pathetic but he still didn't have anywhere else to go. 

If Ianto did decide to leave, it wouldn't matter when. He was immortal. He had time. He might not know where he was going or what he wanted in a few years… or the next few centuries for that matter, but Ianto did know that he wasn't planning on bunkering down with Torchwood for the whole of eternity. He wasn't Miranda Ryan or whatever the fuck she was calling herself these days.

Ianto knew all about her and, ever the unobtrusive butler, he'd watched and learned. Torchwood was Miranda's idea of penance and purpose and, right now, Ianto didn't feel he had a particular need for either. He was living day to day and that was just fine with him. He got up in the morning. He exercised and practiced the sword. He did his job well and efficiently. He took his meals. He went out at night and took a variety of women and sometimes men. He was fine with the way things were. 

He was fine. 

 _If you're fine why are you so bloody miserable?_ He squashed the thought the minute it came up. With a sigh, he rearranged the artefacts on the trolley one last time to make sure he was leaving nothing behind. He dropped a box of files alongside the artefacts. He may as well swing past that section on his way down. There was a pressure between his temples and then a small knock at his office door. He groaned inwardly. He glanced over to his sword laying across his desk. He shouldn't assume it was Miranda. It could be anybody really but he was within the Hub and generally safe. While Miranda carried her sword with her from room to room within the Hub, Ianto often left his in his office or next to his workstation in the main Hub. Besides, if it was an immortal bent on taking his head, he doubted that person would take the time to knock. 

"Come in," he called out. 

"Jones," Miranda said with a nod.

"Is there something I can do for you, ma'am?" Ianto asked, not looking up. 

"I thought we might have a bit of a chat," Miranda said. 

Impatient, Ianto waved at the trolley and said, "I've got rather a lot to do."

"I understand that, Jones, it will only take a few minutes," she insisted. 

He stopped fiddling with the items on his trolley and turned towards her, his arms crossed over his chest. Miranda could feel the contempt rolling off of him. She mimicked the stance. 

"You don't seem pleased with your promotion."

Honestly, he said, "I wouldn't exactly call it a promotion, ma'am. I assume Gwen will resume her position once she returns." 

"She will but there was a reason I appointed you interim second in command and I'd like to explain-"

"You needn't explain your decisions to me," he interrupted. "Something you've made clear in the past." 

"Jones? Will you shut your gob and listen to me?"

Ianto rolled his eyes at her but gestured for her to continue. 

"I've never tried to offer you advice because I am not your teacher nor am I your friend. I'm certain the Highlander gave you his version of this speech at some point but as you are not heeding the advice of your teacher, you'll now get my unsolicited version," she said. Her voice betrayed her frustration and annoyance. She waved up at the ceiling. "As time goes by you will start to hate mortals. Once everyone and everything you know has crumbled to dust, you will look around and you won't recognise the world anymore. The mind numbing sameness of it all will start to eat at you and that is when it will begin." 

 _Mind numbing sameness…_ Ianto repeated to himself. The words struck home. He looked down at the trolley as she continued to speak. "First, you'll start to envy their mortality and the normalcy it brings. Then they'll make you angry because they take it for granted. Then you'll start to hate them for it. That hate will fester until, one day, you won't know how to do anything else and then the madness will set in. You'll die inside and you'll stop being able to feel anything at all. They'll become nothing to you; pointless and pathetic; just dust on your boots. Mortals don't understand madness. They think it's a matter of not knowing right from wrong but it's not that you don't know, it's that you don't care." 

She sighed and tapped the trolley's handle. Ianto looked up at her. 

"It's started already. I can tell. You're bored," she said, softly and with sympathy. "Immortality presents us with a thrilling array of possibilities. With time on our side, we can explore the world and our interests to the fullest. But there is also terrible possibility. Life can leave even the strongest soul jaded and you can become stagnant as the world changes. That is not a good combination. Immortality isn't about a sprint to the finish line, as it is for mortals. It's about the slow and steady of a marathon. It's about stamina, Jones. We all find distractions along the way, but eventually, we need to find a real reason to keep going."

"So you think Torchwood is a reason?" he sneered. 

"No, I'm saying that you should consider the options before you," she said, and then waved at the trolley. "This place? It's important."

Ianto gave her one of his spectacular eye rolls. He leaned heavily on the trolley's handle and shook his head. His voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, "If you say the twenty first century is where everything changes I swear to God-" 

"I wouldn't do anything so droll as parrot the company line," Miranda said, annoyed. "All I'm saying is that someday should you seek a purpose, Torchwood will be here. It's why I promoted you, however temporarily. There is more to this place than the archive and tidying up. I thought the idea of expanding your duties would appeal to you. I may not have made it clear but you can refuse this temporary promotion." 

She was right. She hadn't made it clear. Ianto had thought that he was interim second in command and that was that. The idea of working more closely with Miranda was the last thing he wanted. He hadn't liked the woman from the start. Gwen was right, he'd never really given her a chance and, frankly, he hadn't wanted to. He still didn't. He donned a professional demeanour when they needed to work together but he had little patience for the woman and he thought it was finally time to tell her why. Maybe it would finally get her to stop these attempts at friendship and immortal bonding. He'd avoided it until now because anything that came out of his mouth would find its way to Tosh's ears and Ianto didn't want Tosh to know exactly what he thought of the woman she loved.  

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am," he said, impatient. 

"You never need to ask for permission for that, Jones," she said, wryly. Ianto usually never bothered, blurting out his opinions and objections. He constantly questioned her authority, speaking with contempt and ire whenever he wished. Whatever he was saying now must be uniquely disrespectful for him to ask before he spoke. 

Ianto narrowed his eyes at Miranda and said, "You're right. I don't like you and I never have. I think Tosh deserves better than a sociopath looking for a bit of penance. I'm already your PA. The idea of becoming your second in command, however temporary, turns my stomach." He continued, his voice becoming more and more scathing, "You rode with the Horsemen for centuries. Methos told me some interesting highlights. But mostly he told me about how much you all loved your… work." 

He opened the door to his office and then went back to the trolley. "I understand life was different back then. But you and Methos didn't stop gutting innocent people because you were guilty and wanted to change. You stopped because you got bored with it which was the reason you lot started in the first place." 

He pushed the trolley forward a few steps. "You sit up in that office looking down like you're better. You act like you've changed but you haven't. When something needs putting down, you're always the first one to step up. I saw you execute that boy who touched the reliquary. Torchwood is your excuse to put a bullet into a nine year boy every once in a while and say it's all been for the greater good, _Doctor_ Ryan." 

Ianto marched out of the room, pushing the trolley in front of him, leaving a stunned Miranda behind him. He didn't care if he was hitting her below the belt. It was true. A niggling voice in the back of his mind sneered at him another truth - that accepting Miranda meant accepting that Jack was gone and never coming back. He dismissed the thought the moment it entered his mind, a rush of anger coming up. He'd moved on. He was over it. But that didn't mean that he didn't hope that wherever that bastard, Jack Harkness, was that he wasn't at least in a little bit of pain.


	13. Chapter 13

"YEOW!" Jack howled. The tool he was holding clattered to the engine room floor. 

"I told you to watch your fingers!" Soolla scolded. 

The zap hadn't been enough to do any real harm but it had hurt.

"They're going numb!" Jack whinged. He shook his hand, the fingers hanging limp. "Is that supposed to happen?" 

"It's just a neutrospanner. It's not permanent," Soolla said. Her plume was a vibrant yellowish orange but the base was purple. She was angry but his accident amused her a bit. "You said you knew about this ship." 

"The engines… not the sensor array," Jack said, leaning down. He wiggled his fingers, the feeling was coming back. He sighed. The two of them were trying to install the beacon and had been stuck in the engine room all day, if you could call this cramped little crawl space a 'room'. "Are you sure that thing will fit in right? We've blown a relay panel and a connection distributor not to mention the filament adapter."

Soolla's feathers ruffled. She said, hotly, "This beacon is tricky. It needs to resonate at the proper frequency or it won't function. That means the whole sensor array needs to be recalibrated. The fuel distribution's matrix resonance needs to be changed to match. The amplitude is one thing but the wave period? If the harmonics aren't precise, the engines won't run or the ship will be flying blind or both." 

"Hey, take it easy. I get how hard this is," Jack said, waving down at the parts strew across the floor. He said, for what felt like the thousandth time, "And I'm not a Tellurian." 

As always, Soolla ignored him and laughed. Jack winced at the noise. Ravenali didn't have beaks like birds but their lips were hard and leathery. When a Ravenali laughed, they clicked those lips together, chattering them. It wasn't a pleasant sound to the human ear. 

"Whatever you say, Tellurian," Soolla said. She laid down and shifted herself to get a better angle for what she was doing. "Hand me that calibrator." 

Jack crouched down and handed Soolla the appropriate tool. He felt badly he couldn't be of more help. He'd led them all on a bit about how much he knew about the ship and its systems. He was a conman after all. Still, he was trying to help as best he could. The Ravenali knew about the existence of humans and, of course, other planet-bound species. They couldn't understand how Jack, a human being, knew the things he knew. Compared to the Ravenali? Right now humanity may as well be drawing on cave walls and worshiping fire.

But they didn't know Jack's greatest secret and it wasn't that he was really from the fifty first century. For over a hundred years, Torchwood operatives had marveled at the amount of information stored in Jack Harkness's brain. Even Miranda, who knew what century Jack came from, couldn't believe how much information he could recall about various aliens, artefacts and technology. The immortal woman chalked it up to greater evolution but the secret was obvious if you realised the basic truth that Jack cheats. He always cheats. 

Held within his vortex manipulator was a massive knowledge base. It could tell you pretty much anything you wanted to know about, well, anything. To the average twenty and twenty first century human being, it made Jack almost super human but there were limits to the knowledge base. Even in the fifty first century you couldn't store an infinite amount of data in a device small enough to strap onto someone's wrist. There were still limits especially since the device was also supposed to be able to perform dozens of other functions not the least of which being send someone through time and space. 

Since it couldn't store everything, the knowledge base was tailored to meet the needs of the traveling Time Agent. It had a plethora of historical and cultural information, not to mention a pretty nifty translator but when it came to something like Gavia and Soolla's ship? The information was pretty basic and no help at all to Jack in this situation. Sure, his vortex manipulator could give him the basics. It told him what kind of ship it was and about the ships systems, how to work them and how to make simple repairs, but installing this beacon was tricky and complex. Using the information in his vortex manipulator to do it would be like using a car's owner's manual to try and repair the transmission or modify the engine. So basically, Jack was just there to hand things to Soolla. Suddenly, Gavia's head appeared over the hatch. 

"Tellurian? I have a surprise for you," he said with a smile. 

Jack sighed. He was just going to have to accept the offensive nickname. Now he knew how Ianto felt when anyone called him Yan. Jack's heart constricted at thought of the Welshman. 

"What's up Gav?" 

"Just a surprise," he said, laughing. He waved towards the navigation room and then disappeared.

Jack climbed the ladder and followed him. Gleefully, Gavia sat down at the console and tapped a few buttons. The protective blast shielding across the ship's main window opened. Gavia waved out his hand and Jack smiled. 

"I thought you'd like that," Gavia said, waving in front of him. "There it is, Earth. You Tellurians… What a silly name for a planet! Why don't you people just call it dirt?"

Jack smiled and looked at the blue ball through the glass. "It's not really mine…" _not anymore…_  

It was so beautiful. The swirls of clouds across the atmosphere created wispy patterns across the continents and oceans. Jack took a step towards the glass. He'd forgotten how captivating planets were from orbit. People evolved on their planets and without technology, they simply weren't meant to leave them. So when people finally got into space and saw their planet's beauty in its entirety, as a whole, they were always awestruck. It didn't seem to matter what century it was or where you were from. 

Jack remembered the first time he'd seen his home planet from orbit. He'd passed his Time Agency entrance examinations. He'd gotten his ticket and was on his way. He'd work hard and then, after he'd graduated, he'd use all the resources at the disposal of a Time Agent to find Gray. He had a mission, a plan. So he'd told himself what difference did it make to look out the window? He was determined not to act like the yokel from the arse end of nowhere. He'd feigned nonchalance, saying that he didn't care to see but someone, Jack couldn't remember who, had told him to look.

The moment he had, it'd been like love at first sight. His heart had skipped and the awe had blossomed up through him. Tears had gathered in his eyes and his mouth had slowly opened. He'd drawn in a sharp breath and held it without realising. Jack's actual planet didn't even have a name, just a number. It hadn't mattered at that moment. All he'd seen was the beauty of his home. The slightly green ocean had sparkled and the colours of the land, the sandy tans and the mahogany, had been so rich. He'd watched, transfixed, as the swirling white clouds and the yellow dust storms had moved across the glowing orb. The tiny polar caps had barely been distinguishable from the clouds. 

It wasn't just about seeing the beauty of your planet from orbit. It was more about a sense of home. Just outside the awe was a warmth that spread through your body. If you were leaving, it was a profound sense of loss. If you were coming home, it was a profound sense a relief and comfort. But if you were just passing by, like a man dying of thirst, your soul reached out for the water that had sparked your life. That was what Jack felt now. His soul was reaching out, projecting itself towards the beautiful blue orb. _Home…_  

He didn't want to feel this way about Earth. It was just a rock, like any other rock spinning through the universe but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. He took another step towards the glass. It turned so fast but he knew it would be any minute. Anticipation made his heart race but the sadness and longing made it constrict too. When Jack saw the heel of Italy's boot come into view, he flicked his gaze up to the sight of Britain's outline, grateful it wasn't overcast with clouds. The ship was far away and it was so small, Jack had to strain his eyes. _Ianto…_  

Jack swallowed against the lump in his throat. He croaked, "Close the blast shields…" 

Gavia stammered, "Jack, I'm sorry… I thought-"

"Close them!" he barked. 

Gavia hit a few buttons and the shields slipped into placed, blocking the view. Jack stormed out of the navigation room and into the habitat pod that he and Duggie shared. 

He rummaged in his things, digging out the bottle of hypervodka he'd picked up at the spaceport. After sitting down on Duggie's bunk, he twisted the cap off and drank down a few gulps of the cheap liquor. It burned all the way down. He tossed the foul bottle back into his bag. A profound heaviness settled into his limbs after the warmth had spread. His eyes drooped but Ianto's face still swam in his mind with its disapproving frown.

Without the constant running and adrenaline of the Doctor's many adventures, Jack had fewer distractions and fewer ways to keep him from thinking about all that he'd left behind. At first, Jack had told himself his adventures with the Doctor weren't the same because, well, the Doctor wasn't the same but the truth had slowly dawned on him. Yes, this new regeneration was part of it but the fact of the matter was that that part of his life was simply over. It was like trying to be a kid again; it wasn't something you could do knowing what you know now. 

The twenty first century was where everything changed. It was basic history. He knew what was coming. He hadn't needed Alex Hopkins to tell him that. _Give this place a purpose before it's too late. Please…_ Alex had begged him and then put a bullet through his own head. Jack had walked away from that. He'd shirked his responsibilities. He'd tried. It was just… it was too hard. It was too hard to fight the good fight and to watch good people throw their lives away; their gravestones becoming pavement for when everything would change. This Torchwood had been different because it had been his. He'd hand picked every single member of that team and they'd all betrayed him. He hadn't blamed them really, they'd all done it for the right reasons. They'd done it because of the heart and the passion that had drawn Jack to them in the first place.

Jack eventually realised that the biggest chunk that had broken off of his heart was the one with Ianto's name on it. And eventually, he realised that was what he was running from the most were his own feelings. He remembered the precise moment when he realised he was in love Ianto Jones. The Master had decided to see how long it would take for him to starve to death. Towards the end, he'd been delirious and too weak to move or speak. He'd started to hallucinate and what his mind had chosen to hallucinate was Ianto. He was living with Ianto on Boeshane. The two of them were laughing and talking as they prepared a meal. Jack had even been able to hear the ocean in the background. Ianto had come up behind him, put his arms around his waist and told Jack that he loved him and Jack had answered, _I love you too, Ianto…_ Jack had revived on the Valiant and the first thing he'd uttered had been Ianto's name. It had dawned on Jack the moment he'd regained his wits. 

Jack still remembered the image vividly, it haunted his dreams. He tried to drown it booze and adrenaline but it wasn't working so great. The holes in his heart were getting bigger. Jack kept telling himself he needed to stay away, that he wasn't strong enough to keep getting good people killed. If Jack had gone back that day, it would have just been a matter of time. He let out a slurred sob. Jack liked to think that Ianto was living a nice normal life, maybe a wife and some kids. At least he was safe that way. He buried his face in his hands. He didn't even notice the door opening. Duggie bent down. 

"You've had enough, Jack-Jack," the Centaurian said. 

"Mind your own business, Duggie," he snapped, slurring heavily. 

"What daevoch is chasing you isn't my business but this job _is_. It's more than that, Jack-Jack, it's my life. Tipping back a few is one thing, but this…" he scolded. "Me and Sool-Sool and Gav-Gav? We're counting on you." 

"Wrong. I'm wrong," Jack whispered. The room was spinning. "I'm sorry, Ianto…" 

Duggie sighed. He grabbed Jack under his arms and laid him down.

"You sleep this off, Jack-Jack." 

He pulled the blankets up over Jack and then picked up the hypervodka bottle, dumping it down the waste chute. Duggie had been shocked all those years ago when Jack had refused to go with him. He'd thought about going back and checking up on him but he didn't want to cause trouble. Seeing Jack in the bar had been a pleasant surprise. Duggie hadn't seen the problem then. All he'd seen was an old friend looking for a job. He didn't know much about Tellurians but it didn't take him long to realise there was something wrong with his friend. He'd heard Jack in his sleep, crying and mumbling. Sometimes he would call out the strange name he'd just said - Yan-too. 

He looked down at Jack sadly. This wasn't the same man he'd met all those years ago. This man was barely holding it together, running from what the Centaurians called a daevoch. It was an old legend on his world that if you built up enough denial, sadness, guilt, anger or grief, that it would spontaneously manifest itself into a physical demon that would follow you, taunting you and wearing you down until you faced it. Jack was running from things in his own mind and his own heart. Duggie knew that daevoch were something you could never outrun. Even if you ran to the edge of the universe.


	14. Chapter 14

Fish and Henry had had lunch together every day this week. After learning that Fish was a runner, Henry had invited him out for a run after work. Even though Fish had had serious doubts about how well he'd be able to keep up with the much younger man, he'd immediately agreed. Getting it past Olivia was another matter so Fish hadn't even bothered trying. He'd told Olivia that he was staying late at work to oversee some firmware upgrades on the laboratory equipment. He hated lying but Olivia loved to make him feel guilty about spending any time away from home, especially for anything social. 

His solution about this run was to not even mention it to Olivia. While she was making breakfast, Fish had covertly packed his running clothes into his messenger bag. He'd change and shower afterwards in Henry's hotel room. _Christ, it's like I'm having an affair_ … he thought with a chuckle but, when he really put some thought into it, that was exactly what it was like. He actually laughed aloud as he drove. He'd just lied to his wife about his whereabouts so he could spend time with someone who he… who he had feelings for… 

Fish felt his throat go dry. He pulled his car out of traffic, parking illegally against the kerb. He sat back. His jaw was open and a sinking feeling was in his chest. He loved spending time with Henry. He loved talking to him. Just the sound of his voice brightened Fish's day. But he didn't fancy him. Did he?

No, there was no way that he fancied Henry. He was a straight man. It was just a bit of a bromance. It was only natural. Henry was the first person that Fish had felt really connected to in years. He shook his head at the absurdity and looked at the car's clock. Henry was waiting for him. Fish was wasting time he could be spending with Henry. He was about to put the car in gear when he realised why he was so eager to see Henry. He'd been missing him since they'd had lunch… barely five hours ago. Every time he and Henry waved goodbye, all Fish could think about was when he could manage to see him again.

Being a man of science, Fish decided to test his hypothesis. Feeling a bit ridiculous, he closed his eyes and pictured Henry's face with the bemused expression that the other man so often gave him. A soft smile broke out over his own face as affection bubbled up in his chest. He let the feelings flow of their own accord and that was when he felt the affection turn into longing. He didn't want to be sitting in his car thinking. He wanted to see Henry. He wanted to hear his voice. He wanted to shake his hand as he often did now. Perhaps a short hug? Just to touch him… feel his hands… his lips…

He snapped his eyes open. Christ! He  _did_ fancy the man! The jolt of desire that shot through his chest and the blood rushing to extremely inappropriate places was proof positive! 

Fish swallowed. He'd had vestiges of these feelings on and off all week but he'd dismissed them as excitement about making a new friend. He changed the equation around in his head, switching Henry's gender from male to female and immediately felt as if he'd been dropped into the middle of a sordid affair! Fish reexamined every moment he'd thought about or spent with Henry. From the very first blush, this man had stirred deep feelings in him. Now, in relative privacy, he let his mind wander a bit. He quirked a sad smile, imagining a romantic dinner or a movie… a lusty evening following. He swallowed. He knew immediately what he had to do.

He was a married man. He had a family. Continuing to see Henry, even to maintain their friendship was to tempt disaster. He needed to put an end to their friendship but that friendship was the best thing to happen to him since David had been born. He also had no idea how to go about ending things. He couldn't admit these feelings to Henry. Fish was a bit mortified about it especially since he'd chastised Henry for the very same thing. Perhaps, if he did things more indirectly… Henry was leaving for Glasgow in a few weeks and then returning to Canada. If Fish avoided him until then… With a deep sigh, Fish took out his mobile to ring Henry and give the other man some excuse he couldn't go on their run. He felt so guilty and sad. No, Henry was a good man with a good heart. Fish owed it to talk to him and tell him the truth. He dialed Henry's number and waited. He answered on the first ring.

"Joe, are you lost?" he asked and Fish could feel the bemused expression on Henry's face through the mobile.

"No, I'm not lost, Henry," he replied, smiling sadly. "I… I'm afraid I can't make it out tonight."  _Coward…_

"Ah, your wife has objected. Think nothing of it, Joe," Henry said with a slight laugh. "I am taking a hiking trip into the countryside this weekend."

"Hiking?" Fish asked, surprised. Henry didn't seem like the out of doors sort.

"I enjoy excursions into the countryside to paint and sketch. Pennine Way is quite scenic. It is only to be a short day trip, leaving early Saturday morning and returning that night," Henry replied. His voice became a bit hesitant. "I was… I was wondering if you would, perhaps… if you were agreeable… if you'd… would like to join me? It is excellent exercise and quite peaceful. It would be easier on your knee than running."

David had football practice on Saturdays. Fish cursed himself for a moment. He'd rang Henry to tell him that this was the end of their friendship. Now, he was considering skiving off one of his son's activities to spend the day with Henry in the countryside. He had a ridiculous feeling he was in his own version of Brokeback Mountain.  _That movie didn't end so well…_ he thought and sighed. 

_Just one day_ … Fish decided. He'd spend one last long day with Henry and then say goodbye. He felt the universe owed him at least that much. 

"That sounds great, Henry. I'd love to," Fish replied.

"If you believe it will cause difficulty at home-"

"I haven't had a day to myself in ten years, Henry. I think I'm due," Fish interrupted.

Henry laid out their plans. After Fish admitted to never having been hiking before, he also gave him some advice on what to bring and how to dress. He also advised the purchase a pair of actual hiking boots rather than wearing trainers.

"The shop will be able to find you something suitable, Joe," Henry said. "I'll see you Saturday."

"See you then, Henry," Fish said and rang off.

He pulled his car back into traffic, amazed a traffic constable hadn't told him off for being illegally parked for so long. He knew precisely how Olivia was going to react to this impromptu hiking trip because, unfortunately, he'd had plenty of experience with it. Fish found himself not really caring. In fact, the closer he got to home, the less he cared, and by the time he pulled into up to his house, he was almost itching for a row.

He'd arrived just in time for dinner, immediately making up some lie about the upgrade being moved last minute. He also put on a bit about being cross that he'd had to stay late for nothing. After their meal, Fish had some video game time with David. The two of them chatted about the weekend and Fish's plans for a hiking trip. When they were done, Fish put his son to bed and then bracing himself, he went downstairs tell Olivia.

He knew Olivia would treat him like a bloody child, like he was asking permission to go out and play with his friend. When David had been younger and Fish would bring up some sort of social activity or event he wanted to attend with his friends, Olivia would mention some family activity as a substitute. The polite suggestion of an alternative quickly stopped and Olivia's cajoling turning more bitter and nasty. Eventually expecting refusal, his friends had stopped even asking and then, on the rare occasion they did ask, Olivia would raise such a fuss that Fish would decide it wasn't worth it. He'd give in just to keep the peace.

"Absolutely not, Joe!" she barked. "I forbid it!"

_And there it is…_ _not this time…_ Fish told himself as he leaned forward. He stared her down hard, narrowing his eyes. 

"Let's get one thing straight here, Olivia. Your son is upstairs  _not_ standing in front of you," Fish said, coldy. "I've turned a blind eye when you've talked down to me like that in the past but I won't tolerate it anymore. You are  _not_ my  _fucking_ mother."

There was so much ice and vemon in his voice that Olivia's eyes actually went wide and she leaned backwards. She recovered quickly and Fish could tell she was regrouping and heading for her usual 'Plan B'.

"Don't you want to stay at home with your  _family_ , Joe?" Livie whinged. "David has football practice this weekend!" 

And there it was again. The chain of events was so familiar that it made Fish even more angry. "I know that, Olivia, because David has football practice  _every_ weekend during the season. I am still going hiking." 

"Well, you're going to be the one telling him you're missing it so that you can go have fun on your own!" she snapped.

"I already talked to him, Livie. If he had a real problem with me going-"

"Of course he isn't going to have a problem with you going, Joe! He's nine! If you ask him permission to go-"

"I didn't ask his permission," Fish interrupted. "I'm his father, Olivia. I give  _him_ permission to do things not the other way round. I told him I was going. I asked him if he was disappointed. He told me that he was and we talked about it." 

"You talked about it? You purposefully go disappointing your son-"

"Livie, for Christ's sake! Will you stop babying him! People will let him down all the time in life-"

"All the more reason for him to learn that we will always be there for him!" she interrupted. She waved her arm up at the ceiling.

"He already knows that. We talked and we worked it out. He's okay-"

"And you think a nine year old boy is going to tell his father differently?" she retorted.

He was really tired of her interrupting him. He tried to calm his frustration. "You want to know how it went? He told me he was disappointed I was missing his practice and I told him that I get disappointed when he stays at his friends' and we miss our video game time together. He said he understood that I need time with my friends the same way he needs time with his. He's a good kid, Livie."

She didn't seem to have a response to that, instead she shifted gears again. "Who is this person anyway?"

"He's my friend," Fish said, flatly. He sincerely hoped that Olivia wasn't heading where he thought she was and planning to attack Henry directly. Protectiveness rose up in him. "You're the one who wanted to go to that art show. Well, I talked to the artist. He's a nice bloke. We had lunch together and he invited me hiking."

Olivia was shaking her head as she turned away from him. "I still don't understand why you want to go off and spend the weekend with someone you've just met rather than spending it with your family."

"Firstly, it's not the 'whole weekend', it's just Saturday and I am not going to let you guilt me into wanting some time to myself, Livie. How many times have I suggested you and I get away, just the two of us? How many times have you said no? Every. Single. Bloody. Time."

Olivia didn't answer him, she just shook her head. Fish ignored her and continued. He had no idea why he was even justifying his decision to her but he needed to get it off his chest a bit.

"What am I supposed to do, Livie? Just because you won't go somewhere with me doesn't mean I want to be a prisoner in my own home. I never see any of my old mates anymore! The only people we ever socialise with are other parents and their kids! I need to feel like a grown up once in a while! I am taking one day for myself." He was losing his temper. Before he could stop himself, he hissed, "David has completely taken over our lives. We can barely keep up with him and you want to have another one?"

She rounded on him.

"I'm not getting any younger, Joe," she spat.

He hadn't meant to turn this conversation down that road. He'd accidentally steamrolled straight into it. He'd made his bed, now he had to lay in it. "That's my point, Livie. David is exhausting. You and I never get out together as it is. We haven't gone on holiday since David was born-"

"We've gone on plenty of holidays!" Olivia tried to interrupt.

"Not just the two of us!" Fish corrected. "We never even got a honeymoon because you were on bed rest right from the start."

"Children are about sacrifice, Joe," Olivia said, for the thousandth time.

"I know that, Livie. I'd give my life for our son. I'm not talking about becoming absentee parents and leaving David with sitters all the time. I'm talking about  _finding some balance_ . I want to be able to have time and energy for us and myself too," he insisted. "I don't understand why you're not happy with the way things are." 

"I  _am_ happy, Joe, but I know we can be happier," she insisted… again. 

"If you're happy, Livie, why do you want another baby? Isn't David enough?" he asked.

"That's not fair, Joe!" Olivia protested.

"The same way it isn't fair when you tell me I should be happy enough with David to want to add to our family or when you tell me that I should love David enough to give him a sibling," Fish retorted.

It was the same reasons and objections they'd said to each other over and over and over again. The argument was completely circular and, as always, going no where.

"You have a sister, Joe!" Olivia exclaimed. "Your parents are gone! Aren't you happy you're not alone? That you have Anna?"

Fish sighed. This was another bloody point that Olivia brought up time and again.

"Livie, Anna is halfway around the world! I haven't seen her, Robert or the kids in years. We don't even speak outside holidays," Fish pointed out. "Giving David a sibling doesn't mean they're going to be best friends forever!"

And then Olivia did what she always did every single time he brought up a logical, sensible objection…

She said, "We're not supposed to be discussing this here."

…and then began doing housework. She turned towards the dishwasher and started emptying it. Fish rolled his eyes. The subject was so volatile that their therapist had declared it to be taboo outside of their sessions. Frustrated and angry, Fish turned towards the stairs.

As he walked away, Olivia said, "The longer we discuss and talk, the more time ticks away, Joe."

"Livie," Fish said, sighing. He'd had enough of her whinging about her biological clock. Over half a year of this bollocks and he was done. It was time for the truth. Actually the truth was long overdue. He should have admitted it from the start, maybe he could have avoided all of this. They'd been together for nearly a decade and a half. She was his wife. She was the mother of his son. He owed it to her to tell her now and not wait for some ridiculous therapy session. "Livie, listen to me, because this is the long and short of it. I do  _not_ want to have another child and that is  _never_ going to change no matter how much therapy we go to or how much time goes by." 

"What about what I want, Joe?" Olivia snapped.

Fish sighed. He took Olivia's hand in his. The anger had drained away and there was nothing left but defeat. He said, quietly, "Livie. Livie, look at me."

He waited until Olivia lifted her head.

In a sad and level voice, he continued, "We're not talking about what color we want to paint the lounge or which welsh dresser we want in the dining room. I agreed to the therapy because I wanted to see a solution, I did. But there is no way to compromise here."

Fish hadn't wanted it to come to this. He'd hoped that Olivia would come around to his point but then again, he knew that she'd hoped for the same thing. He hesitated because once he said what he was about to say that there was no going back.

"Having another child isn't something you're going to do with me, Olivia," Fish said, gently.

"What are you saying, Joe?" Olivia asked.

"I'm saying that for fourteen years, we've always wanted the same things. That's changed and now it's changing us. I'll keep going to the therapy, Olivia, but I'll do it so that you and I can work through this  _not_ so that you or anyone else can talk me into having another child because that is  _never_ going to happen." 

Fish turned and walked out of the kitchen. He went up the stairs and walked past his son's room. He could hear David, playing a video game even though he was supposed to be sleeping. When he pushed the door open and leaned in, David's face became panicked and he looked as if he was trying to decide where to hide the controller in his hand while simultaneously coming up with some excuse or lie. Instead of telling his son off for not going to bed, Fish stepped into his room. He sat down next to him and ruffled his hair playfully. He smiled affectionately, picked up the second controller and joined him.

He couldn’t completely destroy his son’s sleep so he only helped his son with one quest. Then, he told him, firmly, that it would be their little secret and that he should go to bed for real this time. He left his son’s room and went down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with his wife. With a sigh, he saw the grocery sack hanging on the door knob. He knew it would be filled with all of his things. He didn’t even bother trying the knob. It would be locked. He squashed the anger that rose up in him. He hated when Olivia did this - tossing his things at him and locking their bedroom door. He was the bloke so he was the one who always got kicked out of bed? Why couldn’t she sleep on the bloody sofa for once?

He went into the washroom to change. It was also what he hated about sleeping on the sofa. In the bedroom, Fish always slept nude, but when ejected to the sofa, he had to wear something in case David wandered in. He angrily cleaned his teeth and stormed down the stairs. He watched a bit of mindless telly and then laid down on the sofa. He tried to push the throw pillow into a more comfortable shape.

Trying not to think about how many nights he’d spent on this sofa over the past six months. He turned his discussion with Olivia over and over in his head. He scrubbed at his face, hard. Without thinking, he reached over to the coffee table for his mobile so he could ring Henry. He dropped the phone and ran his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t late but it was late enough that a phone call could be considered rude. Something told Fish that Henry wouldn’t care if he rang in the dead of night. The attraction between them was certainly mutual. And if Fish was being honest with himself, it had been from the beginning. He just hadn’t recognised it for what it was.

Olivia had practically dragged him to that art show and it had been the absolute last thing he’d wanted to do. They’d gone with another couple whose son was in David’s class at school. Somehow, Fish felt like an extra wheel as the three other parents had not examined the art but had chatted about some upcoming birthday party. Fish had wandered away from them to appreciate the paintings. The painting of the boy swimming had immediately struck a cord in his heart. It reminded him of a simpler time in his own life and of the sort of childhood he’d wanted to give his son - one filled with freedom and wonder and without so much of the rigid structure Olivia constantly built into their lives. When he’d turned and seen Henry, Fish couldn’t help but swallow, hard. The man was gorgeous. Of course, Fish had recognised good looks in other men, but now that he was scrutinising, he hadn’t just been acknowledging Henry as a good looking bloke. He’d taken an involuntary step towards him with obvious chemistry. When Henry had asked if he was alone, he’d looked around to see if anyone was watching him, because his first impulse had been to lie and say yes. After Henry’s hasty retreat, Fish had let out a breath he’d been holding. His face had felt warm and his heart was thundering in his chest. He’d been about to follow Henry but Olivia had snagged his arm, telling him that they should be getting home to David. He’d done little else but crane his neck looking for the Englishman as he left.

When he’d seen Henry sitting on that park bench, his heart had leapt. He’d stood there, transfixed, as he watched Henry draw, occasionally taking bites of his food.  _I was so nervous_ … he recalled. He’d halted his approach several times, trying to work up the courage. His heart had taken another leap when it looked like Henry was just as happy to see him as he was to see Henry. Henry’s stammering had been adorable. Fish would’ve had to have been blind to not see that Henry fancied him. Now that he was looking back, he realised it wasn’t the ego boost that he’d found flattering. He’d wanted his feelings to be reciprocated. 

Every day had been the same after that. Whenever Fish wanted to share something with someone, he reached for his mobile and texted or rang Henry. Whenever he wanted to express some frustration or hear a sympathetic voice, he rang Henry. It had been Henry’s company he’d wanted and missed. It had been Henry’s quiet, gentle presence he’d craved. He was craving it now. All he wanted was the ring Henry and hear his voice. He wanted to tell him all about his discussion with Oliva. He wanted his opinion. He wanted his advice. That was just close friendship wasn’t it? But he couldn’t stamp out the little voice in his mind that told him he’d given Olivia an ultimatum and that, deep down, he wanted to leave… leave and walk right into Henry’s arms.

Why? Why did he feel this way? He scrubbed at his face and looked around the lounge, taking in the pictures and bits of memorabilia displayed all over the family room. Was his life here so terrible? Had the situation with him and Olivia deteriorated so much that he’d switched teams?  _No_ … it didn’t work that way. Was the situation with Olivia deteriorating so much because he’d always been a gay man in denial?  _No_ … he dismissed immediately. Surely, he would’ve felt something for some other bloke at some point in his life before now if that were true.  _Bisexual?_ he questioned. The little voice in his head snickered something about quaint categories and the modern need to label.  _Where did_ that _come from_ … He shook off the perplexing feeling. 

He ran his fingers through his hair again. He needed to go to sleep. He had to be up early. He laid back down on the sofa and pulled the blanket back over himself. He tried to push back this disastrous replay of the past six months out of his mind. But what he couldn’t do was scrub Henry from his thoughts. He kept replaying every moment he’d spent with him and forcing his hands to remain where they were instead of reaching for his mobile.

He lost that battle but instead of dialing Henry’s number, he played an answer phone message the Englishman had left a few days ago.

_Joe, I’m running a little late for lunch. Perhaps five minutes or so. I’ll see you soon._

He played the message again. And again. And again. Until his heart began to ache and sleep was even farther from him.

“Dad?”

Fish looked up and his son was standing there, staring at him. He quickly slipped the phone under the throw pillow and felt heat on his cheeks.  _Great sign that I’m not doing anything wrong. Hiding and guilt._

“Did you and Mum have a fight?” he asked, shyly.

He sat up, quickly shifting gears. “Yeah, we did, kiddo.”

“I’m sorry I was playing games instead of going to bed.”

“Hey,” Fish said sternly, “this is not because you and I were playing video games. Mum and I don’t always agree on things. It happens to everyone.”

“Did you tell her you’re sorry?” he asked.

“I will in the morning,” he said.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed?” David offered, holding out his hand.

Fish stood up and took his son’s hand. “I’d like that, kiddo.”

As he led his son away, he was tempted to pick up his mobile. Instead, he left it, and Henry’s voice, hidden away.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

It had taken nearly two days, but Tosh had finally managed to get Miranda to tell her what had been bothering her. This was supposed to be a nice romantic evening, but she'd insisted there was no way either of them could enjoy it if Miranda was brooding. Tosh knew it had to be something about her past, it was the only thing that was raw enough to disturb her this much. So after securing Tosh's promise that she wouldn't hold what Ianto had said against him, she'd told her. By the time Miranda was done, Tosh was internally fuming. She wanted to give Ianto Jones a piece of her mind but she'd given Miranda her word.

"He's wrong, Miranda. You're a different person now," Tosh insisted. 

Miranda shook her head. "He's right. When something needs putting down, I always volunteer-"

"Of course you do," Tosh replied, flatly, "but not for the reasons he thinks." 

Miranda didn't answer her. She just pushed a potato across her plate. Tosh sighed, inwardly. This woman had thousands of years of issues wrapped up in her head and Tosh found herself sincerely wishing the woman's friend, Sean Burns, was still alive. The immortal psychiatrist was just what the woman needed. But Burns was dead and all Miranda had was Tosh who was more than happy to play shrink for her lover. Maths and alien technology wasn't Tosh's only talent. She was also completely brilliant when it came to figuring out what exactly was going on inside Miranda's head. 

"Miranda? You were upset for weeks after you had to shoot that boy," Tosh insisted. "You _hated_ shooting him but there was no other choice."

"You're wrong, Toshiko." Miranda shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mind shooting him. I didn't hesitate. I wasn't conflicted. I just… shot him." 

"Because it was the right thing to do. That's why you didn't hesitate. You did what you had to do and you dealt with the consequences later. You're always going on about what you think you should be doing or how you think you should be reacting but life doesn't work that way," Tosh insisted. She reached out for Miranda's hand. 

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but Tosh interrupted her. 

"You're about to tell me about how there was a time when you would've derived some twisted enjoyment out of it," Tosh said, impatiently. "Miranda, you're mixing things up. That voice in the back of your mind isn't telling you that you enjoyed it now. It's telling you that you would've enjoyed it back in the day - _in the past_. They're two different things. It's reminding you that that isn't who you are anymore." 

Miranda shook her head and sighed. She'd been so ashamed when she'd told Tosh about her past but there was really no way she could keep it from her. Oh, she'd thought about it. She'd closed that chapter on her life and she wanted to keep it closed but not with Tosh. Tosh gave herself fully to them. She was open and honest and Miranda never wanted to betray that with lies and half truths. It had taken years but Miranda had told Tosh everything from what little she remembered of her childhood all the way to Jack Harkness. 

"I wish you'd stop being so hard on yourself. I know you did terrible things and I'm not saying you should forget that. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to forgive ourselves but you've changed." Tosh reached out with her other hand. "You really went off the deep end, Miranda. You went so far over I'm amazed you pulled yourself back up at all. If you were mortal and did that today, you would've spent the rest of your life inside an institution! But look at you! You're a doctor. You're running the most powerful alien organisation in the world. I'm not saying you're the picture of mental health. You're a right mess but I love you for who you are. You're a good person. I just wish you'd stop trying to be so brave all the time, putting up such a front. You know what we all used to call you."

"The Ice Queen," Miranda said ruefully.

"Exactly. That's all that Ianto sees. Of course, he's assuming your idea of a good time is putting a bullet in someone's head. It's all he wants to see. It took a long time for me and Owen and Gwen to see the real you because you hide it so well," Tosh pointed out. "You know I never understood why you always tried so hard to get Ianto to like you." 

"It's not about getting Jones to like me," Miranda pointed out. "Torchwood is a team, we're a family. We all need to work together and trust each other to be at our best. If Jones doesn't trust me, if there is friction, then it's a weak link. It damages the whole." 

Tosh looked at Miranda with skepticism. Miranda had worked so hard to get the team to trust her. Tosh wasn't blind. The fact that Ianto still hated her bothered Miranda no matter how many times she denied it. Miranda was a good leader but - and Tosh felt terribly every time she thought this - she was no Jack Harkness. The team wasn't as cohesive as it was under Jack. It all wounded Miranda's pride. 

"I could care less whether Ianto Jones liked or disliked me, Toshiko," Miranda insisted. "Questioning my orders and my judgement is fine in the Hub, but Jones has started doing so out in the field and that is dangerous."

"And you thought promoting him to second in command would be an olive branch?" she asked, a bit sarcastic. Tosh didn't think there was anything Miranda could do. It had been seven years. If Ianto hadn't come round by now, he wasn't going to. 

"If you are disappointed-"

"Oh, don't give me that, Miranda. I'm not disappointed you didn't give me the job. Gwen isn't going to be gone for long. I have enough to do and I'm rubbish with the politicians," Tosh said, soothingly. Miranda was trying to deflect the subject and she wasn't going to let her. "You don't technically need a second in command." 

Miranda sighed and then opened her mouth to say something but Tosh cut her off. 

"If you're about to say that I wouldn't understand, why don't you try me," Tosh snapped, glaring at her lover. She knew that look on Miranda's face. The explanation had something to do with immortality and the Game. While Tosh's experience and understand of both had increased a thousand fold since she'd started dating Miranda, there were still some things Miranda felt were too complicated or uncomfortable for her lover. Tosh hated when Miranda didn't at least give her the option of trying to understand. She hated it when Miranda treated her like a child, something that had improved but she was still working on. 

"Okay, it was a bit of an olive branch. I had some ulterior motives for offering Jones the position." Miranda speared the potato she'd been pushing around her plate and ate it. She winced. It was stone cold. She said, as she chewed, "He's capable of more than he is doing."  

"It's his life," Tosh said, defensive of her friend. She returned to her own meal that had become a bit cold. "If he wants to rearrange the archives for the next thousand years, why not let him?" 

"Because that's dangerous," Miranda insisted. She waved around them. "What do you see, babe?" 

"A restaurant?" she replied, unsure. 

"People eating a meal," Miranda said, simply. 

"Yeah…" Tosh said, confused. She didn't see where Miranda was going with this. 

Miranda waved to the window, indicating the passersby. "You see people going about their lives, making their way and doing the best that they can. That's the way of it now. That was the way of it a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago and back and back and back since the dawn of mankind. The sameness of it wears you down over the centuries and the longer it goes on, the more 'same' it becomes." 

Miranda took a sip of her wine while the server cleared away the dishes from their dinner. Without giving her a chance to object, Miranda ordered Tosh's favourite chocolate dessert. 

"But so much is different now," Tosh insisted. "Airplanes and computers-"

"Those are just the details. It doesn't matter if you're tinkering with alien technology in the twenty first century or tanning leather in the Ancient Rome. When you distill life down, it's always the same. You're born. You grow up. You live your life. You grow old. You die. Immortals of the Game like me and Ianto? We're stuck in the middle… simply living and existing. It's easy to become stagnant. The world changes around us and we remain the same." 

Miranda broke off again as the chocolate was placed in front of them with two spoons. She fed a bit of it to Tosh. 

"Jones is stagnant and he has a lot of anger in him. That doesn't lead anywhere good." 

"He's just sad and bitter, Miranda," Tosh said, sipping her wine. She let some of the bitterness she still felt escape in her voice. "I know it's been years but we're all are. Ianto just doesn't bother hiding it. We betrayed him and he left and he never came back." 

"It's more than that, babe. You and Gwen and Owen? You worked through it. Jones is just letting it fester," she replied with a shake of her head. Everyone on the team resisted speaking Jack's name aloud even in casual conversation. _He Who Must Not Be Named…_ "It's not healthy in a mortal person and it's downright unsafe in an immortal. He won't even realise it. The complacency and boredom will create a vacuum within him that the bitterness will fill-"

"This isn't your story, Miranda," Tosh interrupted. She saw where Miranda was going with this. Her lover saw parallels in Ianto's life and her own fall from grace into madness. "Ianto isn't you." 

Miranda sighed. "One of the reasons that life and the world is the same is because the people never change, Tosh. We are capable of being so much more but we are also capable of being so much less. I find the two to be proportional." 

"He's not you," Tosh repeated. 

"But he is headed down the same path. Hurt and pain have loaded the gun. His complacency has cocked it. He needs only the correct event to pull the trigger and he could spiral down the road to madness," Miranda insisted. 

"Ianto wouldn't-"

"Everyone has their breaking point, Tosh. Everyone. A strong man like Ianto Jones could go the whole span of a mortal life without ever reaching that breaking point. But remove time from that equation? You end up with a dangerous situation for anyone. Immortality and sanity don't go hand in hand." Miranda turned to the dessert, eating a large spoonful. "With a long enough lever, Archimedes swore he could move the world. Well, the proper lever can tip anyone over their breaking point. It took me almost a thousand years to reach mine and it took thousands more to put those pieces back together. I'm trying to help Jones not walk down the same road." 

"Like I said," Tosh said with a self satisfied smile, "you're a good person, Miranda." 

Miranda felt the love overflow from her heart. She squeezed Tosh's hand. Her rock. _My rising sun…_  

"I love you," Miranda said, softly. "I'm sorry I've ruined our evening, babe."

"I love you too," Tosh replied. She let an evil grin break out over her face. "And you didn't ruin it but if I act like you did, will you make it up to me later?" 

Miranda flashed her a loving smile and Tosh giggled. She took one more bite of the chocolate and then she pushed the rest of the dessert towards her lover. 

"You have the rest," Tosh said but Miranda pushed the plate back in her direction. 

"It's your favourite," Miranda insisted. She dug her spoon into the chocolate and a bit of the cream and held it aloft. 

"You do realise I've put on nearly a stone since we've started dating!" Tosh said, smiling. Despite her protest, she ate the offered treat and then picked up her own spoon. After eating another few bites, she pushed the dessert firmly towards her lover. Tosh gave her a look of mock annoyance. "You're lucky I love you so much." 

 _I am… I'm so lucky…_ _My rising sun…_ Miranda's eyes shined as she gazed into Tosh's eyes. Nerves started to dance in Miranda's belly. She checked her watch. _Nearly time…_

"You're more beautiful than ever," Miranda said, smiling softly. She pulled the rest of the chocolate to her and ate the remainder. Tosh shook her head, annoyed. She hated how Miranda constantly ate like rugby player and never seem to put on an ounce. It seemed an unfair especially since Miranda was also immortal and had perpetual youth.

After Miranda had settled the bill, she asked, "How about a walk on the quay? Maybe the cinema?"  

"What happened to our quiet night in?" Tosh asked with a wink. 

"Just a short one," she promised, waving her elbow out at Tosh. Her lover took it and they stepped out into the night. 

They took the walk in silence, admiring the city and enjoying each other's company. Miranda kept checking her fob watch. _Any minute now…_ Her heart was pounding in her chest, nerves dancing in her belly. They'd nearly made it back to the car when their PDAs went off with a rift alert. Tosh was disappointed but Miranda was relieved. Her program was working. The two women headed back towards the Plass, taking the invisible lift down into the main Hub. With a heavy sigh, Tosh had dropped her bag onto her workstation. She activated the proper programs to narrow and define the rift spike the same way she always would. 

Suddenly, Lady Antebellum was playing in the Hub. Tosh recognised the song immediately, standing there confused and surprised, looking around at the music. It was 'Just a Kiss'. She and Miranda had danced to it at Gwen's wedding. Miranda remembered the night vividly. Once the nostrovite was dead and Ianto had taken over as DJ, she had asked a sad looking Tosh to dance. She had fully expecting her to refuse but Tosh had surprised her, accepting the invitation. Miranda had scarcely been able to breathe. 

She'd been in enamoured with Toshiko Sato ever since she'd clapped eyes on her but she'd hid her feelings carefully. She was the boss and, back then, everyone hated her, including Tosh. But by the time Gwen's wedding had come round, she'd decide to take a chance. She'd been miserable watching Tosh from afar. As the end of the song had neared, she'd pulled back, staring into Tosh's eyes and had told her exactly how she felt about her. Tosh's reaction had been precisely what Miranda had expected - she'd been flattered but uninterested. 

Then a little more than a month later, Tosh had been injured. A piece of tech had short circuited and she'd been badly burned. Once she'd gotten out of hospital, Miranda had insisted on caring for her. She'd never left Tosh's side. She'd been steadfast and caring but never intruding; hanging back, knowing her feelings weren't returned. Finally, Tosh realised that someone had noticed her.

On her first day back, Tosh had taken a chance herself and asked Miranda to dinner. Miranda's answer had been demure and quiet but Tosh had seen the joy bursting just beneath the surface. The date had been a simple romantic dinner. Miranda's old fashioned manners and shyness had charmed Tosh. Afterwards, Miranda had walked her to her door and had done nothing more than say good night but Tosh had said, _just a kiss_.

That had been just over six years ago and Miranda had been spoiling her ever since. Tosh had never looked back, allowing herself to fall deliriously in love and 'Just a Kiss' had become their song though neither woman really liked American country music. Tosh had fawned over Owen for so long that dating someone who actually loved her was quite the change. It was more than that. Miranda made her feel like the centre of the universe, a bright beautiful sun that Miranda revolved her entire existence around. Tosh felt loved and it wasn't long before she'd loved Miranda genuinely in return. 

The interior Hub lights went out and immediately after they were plunged into darkness, a small device on her worktable activated. It was a futuristic version of a child's mobile - projecting stars and beautiful patterns of light around the inside of the Hub as it turned. Miranda must have nicked it from the archives. Ianto would be furious. _What on earth…_  

"I wrote the program myself. It took forever. I'm not good with the tech and I had to do it on my own. If I'd asked for your help it would've spoiled the surprise," Miranda said, walking across the main Hub. She took off her coat and draped it across Gwen's desk chair. "You were standing there, just like that, when I saw you for the first time."

"I remember. You introduced yourself in Japanese," Tosh said, smiling. God, she'd hated Miranda back then. From the moment she'd arrived, really; swaggering into the Hub and taking command. 

"You said I sounded like someone out of 'The Tale of Genji'," Miranda said with a shy smile. "At the time, I didn't realise you were poking fun at me." 

This was the Miranda that Tosh fallen in love with. It was the Miranda Ryan no one else saw. This warmth and smile were part of a woman who was hers and hers alone. Tosh loved her complexity, the duality of warrior and lover.  

"You're the most beautiful creature in the world… inside and out. When your five years was up, I thought you'd leave. And I was prepared to let you go," Miranda whispered, "but you stayed. I wasn't going to ask you to." 

"This is where I belong," Tosh said, confused. She'd never told Miranda that she was the reason she'd stayed. She flicked her gaze to her workstation's screen. The rift spike was gone. "What's going on Miranda?" 

Miranda reached up and took Tosh's glasses off her face, carefully folding them and setting them down. The smile was so nervous. Tosh had never seen her like this. Miranda wiped her clammy palms on her trousers and then, to Tosh's utter shock, got down on bended knee. She reached into her back trouser pocket and produced a small box. Tosh's mouth fell open and she gasped when Miranda opened the box, revealing the beautiful diamond ring within. Knowing Miranda, it was lavishly expensive, probably custom made and of the highest quality. It was simple and elegant, something Tosh would have selected herself. 

In an unsteady voice that shook with nerves, Miranda asked, "Toshiko, my rising sun, will you marry me?" 

It was all perfect; the proposal Tosh had dreamed of all her life. Okay, she hadn't expected the person on bended knee to be a woman but that didn't matter to her anymore. She was at a loss for words. They'd never discussed marriage. The only serious relationship discussion had been when they'd moved in together, a year after that first kiss. She'd honestly never even thought Miranda would ask nor had ever thought of asking herself. It hadn't crossed her mind. As she looked into Miranda's nervous eyes, there was only one answer she could think of. She tried to say yes but she was so overcome her voice wouldn't work. Instead, she pulled Miranda up into her arms and kissed her.


	16. Chapter 16

With the beacon properly installed, Gavia had set course to the colony world. They'd made good time - too good. They had to arrive at the rendezvous precisely on time, not too late or too early. So, everyone was sitting in the common room trying to relax for a few hours. Gavia was playing on his lute again and Soolla's plume was a bluish green. She was nervous and a bit anxious. The color of her plume wasn't very deep so Jack assumed she was a bit frightened as well.

She was trying to distract herself with that strange solitaire game. The game had a two player version she'd tried to teach to Jack but he couldn't get all the rules straight. Jack had been a bit surly with Duggie for disposing of his bottle but it had been for the best. Jack needed to keep a clear head no matter how painful that head was - hangover not withstanding. Still, there were other ways to relax. He caught Soolla's eye and winked. The base of her plume immediately turned a vibrant purple and then orange before the colour receded. She swept up the dice into her hands. The bluish green colour returned but it slowly faded to a reddish purple. 

"We have a while before we need to head in," she said. She stood up and moved towards the habitat pods. The plume shifted, ruffling slightly. The colour shifted again, losing some more blue and turning more towards red. She gave Jack a pointed look. "I'm going to rest." 

Jack waited a few minutes after she'd gone and then stretched. "You know I'm kind of tired too." 

Just as he was about to stand, Gavia warned, "Don't even think about it, Tellurian."

Jack gave Gavia his most innocent look and said, "What? I'm just going to take a nap." 

Even Duggie let out a snort and then rolled his eyes. "Is that what you Tellurians call it?" 

Jack was about to congratulate Duggie on finally getting an Earth colloquialism correct but Gavia said, "I like you, Jack, but that doesn't mean I want you near my sister." 

"You want me to step back, I will," Jack said, seriously. He may have learned a lot about the Ravenali culture but he had no idea about the social customs here. He was assuming that because Soolla had offered that the two of them having sex was acceptable but he could be wrong or misinterpreting or missing a step. 

There was often a dizzying array of mores and etiquette surrounding sexual activity for those species that engaged in it. Large taboos and major consequences were widely taught so people didn't cause offence. For example, if custom dictated that having sex with Soolla once meant that they were mated for life, Jack would have learned about it and definitely remembered it. If having sex with Soolla meant something simpler like he would offend her brother… that was something he probably wouldn't have learned or, if he had, he'd probably forgotten about it especially if that offence would be minor.  

"Finally. Something the Tellurian shouldn't know about that the Tellurian _doesn't_ know about," Gavia teased and then laughed. 

"Just want to make sure I'm not stepping on any toes here," Jack insisted.

Gavia looked down at his feet and Jack rolled his eyes. 

"I mean I don't want to offend," Jack translated. He jerked his head towards the habitat pods. "She offered. Your sister can't make her own choices?" 

"She can and there is no offense where none is taken," Gavia said, tilting his head to the right. He gave Jack a skeptical look. "She's too much for you." 

"I'll take that as a challenge," Jack said, waggling his eyebrows. He was practically gleeful as he strolled out of the common room into the habitat area. He stood outside of Soolla's pod and rapped his knuckles on the door. When Soolla answered it, she was completely nude. Her plume was bright red with only the slightest purple tint to it. Jack was getting a full look at the short feathers over the rest of her body. They didn't change colour like the plume. This colouring was unique to her. The short, soft feathers were of a deep blue, shining in the light. Jack could smell the distinctive scent of the special wax Ravenalis used to preen those feathers. 

"I didn't think you'd take the chance," she said, seductively. 

"I'm a flexible kind of guy," Jack replied and stepped into the room. The door slid shut behind him. 

If there was one thing that Jack Harkness was proud of, it was being able to sexually please a wide range of species. All you needed to know was a bit of anatomy and some of the basic social customs. A little knowledge about their evolution and the planet of origin didn't hurt either. Jack knew more than enough about a Ravenali to make those feathers rustle, male or female. He reached up. He made a V with his index and middle finger and slotted them along her prominently jutting keel bone. He slid his fingers down along it. When he reached the tip of that bone, towards her belly, he made a guess and pressed on the end, lightly circling the bony protrusion with his fingers. He was right. He saw the feather patches on her chest fluff slightly and the red colour of her plume deepened. Oh, this was going to be so much fun and it was just the way to take the edge off. 

She took Jack's left hand, bringing it up to her mouth. She nipped at his fingers playfully with those leathery lips. It sent a shiver through him as his trousers started to feel uncomfortably tight. It was unlikely Soolla had ever been with another human and Jack had never been with a Ravenali. They'd figure out more as they went and that would be half the fun. He should be chuffed but instead, he felt guilty. _This isn't right…_ his mind whispered. Jack shook off the feeling. 

Soolla reached up and started undoing the buttons of Jack's shirt. The longer feathers on her arm had fluffed even more, the blue shining in the light. He ran his hand down her arm, feeling the softness of the feathers. 

"Are all you Tellurians so smooth," she whispered, running her scaly hand across his chest under his shirt. 

"I'm one of a kind," Jack replied. 

He slid his braces off his shoulders as she tugged him back towards her small bed. It was little more than a round tuffet since Ravenali slept crouched, not laying down. 

Another pang of guilt lanced through him, stronger than before. _Stop this now…_ his mind shouted at him this time. Jack couldn't shake the guilty feeling that continued to grow and grow inside him the closer he stepped towards the bed. Jack felt terribly and he couldn't understand why. She was about to pull him down next to her but he stepped away instead. 

"Jack?" she asked. 

He put his braces back up over his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I can't do this." 

"What did Gavia say to you?" she hissed. The plume on her head had been the deep red of arousal but was now a vibrant and deep yellow. She was really, really pissed off.

Jack shook his head. He couldn't explain it to her at all. Hell, he couldn't even explain it to himself. "I'm sorry." 

He turned, buttoning up his shirt as he went. Soolla grabbed her tunic and put it on. She stomped past him into the navigation room as he vanished into Duggie's room. The last thing Jack heard as the door closed was Soolla shouting at her brother.

What Jack needed now was a drink but his bottle was gone. He dropped onto the bunk and began unconsciously twisting his left ring finger in his right hand. What the fuck was the matter with him? He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes but no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't get Ianto's face out of his mind. He felt so guilty and he didn't understand why.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack leaned forward, watching the display over Gavia's shoulder. His aborted encounter with Soolla had had an opposite effect than he'd intended. Instead of relaxing him, it had ratcheted the tension up a few notches between everyone. Soolla didn't blame Jack, she thought her brother had interfered somehow. The siblings were acting a bit chilly with each other but they were all professionals. Everyone was doing their jobs and right now Gavia was piloting the ship across a main shipping channel. Even if you ignored the fact that they shouldn't be here, it was still a touchy bit of flying. The area was congested and there were more than a few traffic bottlenecks. Gavia's feathers puffed a little more as they shifted into a high orbit.

Any minute, the neighboring satellites would scan the ship for the special signal beacon. It was all automated. Once the satellite made sure the ship belonged, the local space traffic control contacted the ship. Then they'd transmit a flight program that would automatically pilot their ship to the appropriate destination. Jack leaned forward a bit more. Traffic control should have contacted them already. 

"Give me some space, Jack. You're making me nervous," Gavia snapped at him for the fourth time. 

Jack stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sorry." 

The light on the console began blinking and a soft whistle echoed in the navigation room. Everyone looked at Soolla. 

"Break a knee, Sool-Sool," Duggie said, smiling. Jack didn't even bother correcting his friend. He just shook his head and hit the button on the console. 

"This is Amasa One orbital traffic control. Identify yourself," the controller said through the speaker. 

"Amasa One, this is Repair Vessel alpha, three, one, one, six. Routine maintenance for quadrant two, section eighteen, docks twenty through forty returning from our own repairs," Soolla said, smoothly. Her voice may have been calm but Jack could see how she was gripping the console. Her plume was nearly white, tinged only with a slight yellow and green. 

"Alpha, three, one, one, six, satellite identity verified. You're cleared to enter atmosphere. Nav protocols are transmitting, welcome home," the controller replied.

"Thanks, control. It's good to be home," Soolla said, brightly and then cut the channel. She sat back in her seat, taking a few deep breaths. 

The tension in the navigation room had completely lifted and celebrating had already begun. Duggie leaned over and clasped hands with Soolla. Gavia gabbed Jack's hand, shaking it. But Jack wasn't up to celebrating even though they'd leapt over the biggest hurtle and the rest was smooth sailing. It might seem like Jack didn't wanted to tempt fate but there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something still wasn't right. 

They all sat back as the nav protocol guided them to the appropriate spot. The information they'd given orbital traffic control coincided with their beacon. Their actual rendezvous point was no where near the area they were supposedly repairing ships. So, once the program disengaged, Gavia turned the ship around and headed for the proper coordinates. It didn't matter that they would be randomly flying about. They'd managed to penetrate the orbital security. Every security and police vessel, air and sea, would think they belonged. They weren't questioned or stopped once. The appropriate dock came into view and Gavia set the ship down. 

"Ahead of schedule," Soolla said, chuffed. She made a clicking noise with her tongue that her brother mimicked. Jack didn't understand the significance of it. He curbed his curiosity, there was still a job to do. 

"Gav-Gav?" Duggie called, getting up from his seat. 

Gavia reached under his console and tossed Duggie a hand held blaster. He handed another one to Jack who shook his head, patting his Webley. "Got my own." 

He walked towards the cargo hold behind Duggie. Soolla hit the button on the console and the back cargo door opened. The damp breeze ruffled Jack's hair and the smell of the salt tugged at Jack's heart. It reminded him of his childhood next to the sea on Boeshane but most of all it reminded him of Cardiff and Ianto Jones. He tried to focus. 

He stepped out onto the dock, his boots thudding dully on the wood. The dock was mostly abandoned. There were two boatmen at the other end of the dock by the boardwalk. One was checking some mooring lines and the other looked to either be loading or unloading supplies from his boat. 

"Where's this boatman, Gav?" he asked. The two at the other end of the dock hadn't even looked up when they'd landed. 

Gavia didn't seem concerned. "We're early." 

"We look suspicious just sitting here," Jack warned. 

"It's fine, Jack-Jack. We're early," Duggie said. He looked at the time piece on his thumb. "Five minutes." 

The sun was warm and Jack took off his coat, tossing it back into the cargo bay across a few crates. He stood at the bottom of the bay door, surveying the situation as the five minutes came and went along with five more. 

People think that keeping a look out means looking for the big threats like vehicles or ships but Jack knew that sometimes the biggest threats could come from people who, at first glance, looked like they belonged. So when the boatman at the other end of the dock started to look like he was loading and unloading the same dozen or so crates over and over again, it made Jack notice. It was hard to be certain because all the crates looked the same but that wasn't the only strangeness. Jack saw the way the man stood, the way he walked and most of all, he saw the way the man wobbled when he got in and out of the boat. This wasn't someone used to the way a boat moved on the water when new weight was added. 

The second man on the boardwalk, the one walking around checking the mooring lines, was more alarming. He'd disappeared around the corner but he'd also appeared twice more, checking the same lines as if he was walking around in a big circle. He was a man meant to look like he was simply going about the routine of his job but Jack saw the way he looked at the ropes or rather the way he _didn't_ look at the ropes. It took Jack a while to spot it because the man was subtle but he was using the act of looking down at the ropes as a cover for looking at the four of them. 

So Jack unsnapped the holster of his Webley and casually walked over to Duggie. He let out a double whistle and then glanced at the two men. Duggie took over the watch and Jack had no doubt Duggie would notice the same things. Jack continued walking. He ran his hands along the edge of the ship, pretending to check the hull until he'd reached Gavia. 

"Gav," he said, softly. "We need to get out of here." 

"What? Why?" Gavia asked, turning to him. "We can't leave yet." 

Soolla, however, was more concerned. 

"Gavia, this is why Duggie brought him in." Soolla walked up behind them. "What's wrong, Jack?" 

He jerked his head back. "Try not to make it look too obvious that you're looking but that boatman back there with the crates? And the one kneeling next to the moorings on the left? They're not boatmen."

"He's checking the moorings and the other one's unloading." 

"No, Gav… the one unloading has been loading and unloading the same crates at random. The other one checking the moorings has walked past three times now. He's not really looking at the ropes, he's looking at us," Jack insisted. "We've been waiting ten minutes for your contact and he's a no-show. We need to cut and run." 

"We'll give him a few more minutes," Soolla said, turning back to the cargo bay. 

"Jack-Jack's right," Duggie said, coming up behind them. 

The sound of the water lapping against the dock changed and Jack looked down. The water looked rougher. With alarm, he looked down the river and saw a boat moving towards them at a leisurely pace. He warned, "We may not have a few minutes. We need to go. Now." 

"Do you know what the Syndicate will do to us?" Gavia snapped. 

At that moment Soolla saw the boat approaching. Her plume began to fade, turning a lighter colour as the white of fear took over. 

"We can run from the Syndicate! Do you know what the Crassostrians do to pearl thieves?" Jack countered. 

Soolla looked down the other direction. Another boat was slowly making its way towards them. 

"They're right, Gavia," Soolla confirmed. "We need to leave."

Jack asked, "How long to get us in the air?" 

"Five minutes," Gavia said. He started to walk towards the ship. 

Jack looked up. The two boatmen he'd been so concerned about were gone. "I don't think we have five minutes."

The four of them all began searching the area with their eyes. It was too quiet. Suddenly, a shot rang out and they all scrambled for cover. Sirens were going off and Jack could see the boats up and down the river had picked up speed. A wind was also blowing. Jack shielded his eyes from the sun. In the distance, Jack saw a collection of large dots that were likely airships on the way. They ran for the open bay door but Soolla didn't make it. She took a shot to the back and fell forward. 

"SOOLLA!" Gavia yelled, turning in the direction his sister had fallen. "NO!"

Jack turned and saw the fallen Ravenali. The plume on her head was black. She was dead. 

"It's too late! Gav! Stop! It's too late!" Jack shouted, grabbing Gavia around the waist. Shots continued to fly around them. "She's gone!" 

"NO!" he shouted, still trying to free himself. "I won't leave her!" 

"You can't help her! Duggie! Get us in the air!" Jack said, dragging Gavia with him. 

Duggie ran up the ramp and into the ship. Gavia, unwilling to leave his sister behind, continued to struggle and shout. Jack lost his grip and the grief stricken man bolted for his sister's body. 

"GAV! DON'T! NO!" Jack shouted, trying to run after him. 

The bullets continued to fly past them all. Jack was surprised they didn't want to take them alive. Jack saw one of the police taking aim. He didn't think. He threw himself between Duggie and the bullet. He collapsed onto the platform. Duggie dragged him into the small cargo hold and the last thing Jack saw before the world went dark was Gavia's bullet ridden body falling across his sister's. 

Duggie felt his friend go limp but didn't let go. He continued to drag Jack into the cargo bay. He hit the button on the wall and the door shut quickly. Duggie bent down. He wanted to check for life but he had no idea how to do that with a Tellurian. Jack wasn't breathing and the light in his eyes was gone. His friend was dead. Duggie didn't have time to mourn or be angry with himself for getting Jack into all this. He sprinted for the navigation room. Everything was already set, Gavia had insisted on it and Duggie was glad. He started the flight pattern that would take the ship out of the atmosphere, praying that they wouldn't run into the authorities on their way out. 

Contrary to what someone might think, the most dangerous part of outrunning planetary authorities was always inside of the atmosphere. While a ship equipped to handle the vacuum of space could easily handle the atmosphere of a planet, the reverse wasn't true. Planetary defences were just that - planetary. Vessels that could escape a planet's gravity and tolerate the vacuum of space were expensive. So, the first part of any get away was leaving the atmosphere and reaching open space. 

The second part was avoiding any orbital defences because those would definitely be able to give chase through interstellar space. Gavia had programmed the navigation computer to take them out of the atmosphere at an unexpected location and trajectory. As the computer flew, Duggie prayed that reinforcements weren't on the way. The sky darkened and darkened and eventually, Duggie saw stars. They had a head start on the orbital defence teams who probably expected the ship to appear above the area of the heist. The minute they'd left the atmosphere, Duggie started the special engines, propelling them away from the planet to safety. He didn't relax until he was well outside the system. He needed to hide. Duggie scanned the area and saw a small nebula not far from his position. The gases and static discharges would mask the ship. He'd just set his course when he heard a loud cry from the cargo bay. 

"IANTO!" Jack screamed with his first breath after he'd gasped to life. Panicked and terrified, he flailed and screamed. He pawed at the metal beneath his hands. _NO… no…_ He looked around the cargo hold. He clambered backwards, eyes darting around. He punched and kicked as he went against whatever unknown or unseen foe there could be. When he reached the wall, he curled in on himself. That was when he noticed he wasn't in chains. This wasn't the Valiant. It was the scout ship. Jack breathed in and then out, stamping back the panic. The torture of the Valiant was always what Jack's mind leapt to when he revived now. He sobbed, "Ianto…" 

The blue eyes and beautiful Welsh vowels brought up so much love and longing. _I love you, Jack_ … he heard Ianto's voice whisper. It had just been a dream, a fantasy. Jack had never gotten to hear those words, not really. And he wanted to hear them now. All he wanted was Ianto's arms around him. He wanted to hear his Welshman laugh and see his smile. _No, he was never mine…_ He hugged his knees and began to cry softly. 

The cargo hold's door opened and Duggie gaped at him, his blaster in his hand. "Jack-Jack! I thought you were dead!" 

Duggie dropped to his knees next to him, looking for wounds. "Are you hurt? Jack-Jack?"

Jack shook his head, unable to stop the flood of tears. "Soolla… Gavia…" 

"No," Duggie said, softly. He pursed his fingers, all six fingertips meeting. He touched them to his chest and then his forehead. When he finally touched them to his mouth, he blew his breath outward, splaying his fingers. The Centaurian gesture was a display of grief and respect for the souls of the dead.

Jack began to sob anew. Duggie put his orange hand on Jack's shoulder. "You were right, Jack-Jack. Me… Gav-Gav… Sool-Sool, we should've known it was too good to be true for us to make it circle again." 

He was too distraught to correct his friend. "It's not your fault, Duggie. Death just follows me where ever I go." 

"No, Jack-Jack. I'm the one who shouldn't have gotten you into this," Duggie said, sadly. "We're heading for a nebula. We can hide there for a few days. After that, I'll plot a course to Tau Ceti. My cousin's there. He'd help. We'll need to change ships. He'll like it for the parts." 

Duggie got up and left Jack sitting on the floor. He seemed reluctant to leave but they couldn't stay in this area for long. The Crassostrians would be looking for them. That heat would die down eventually but then there'd be the Syndicate to worry about. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jack whispered through the tears. This was all his fault. He should've seen what was wrong sooner. Good people were still dying because of him - good people like Gavia and Soolla… Tosh… Owen… 

 _Wait a minute…_ Jack lifted his head. He scrubbed at his face. _Tosh? Owen?_ No, they were fine when he'd left. There was no way that Tosh was dead. Owen wasn't… Jack reached out for the memories but they were gone. It was like trying to catch smoke with his fingers. He started rubbing his hands together, staring at his left hand. He kept expecting to see a ring. Why?

 _I love you, Jack…_  

Ever since the Year That Never Was, those words had repeated over and over again in his head. It was almost like his mind was taunting him with some fantastical dream he could never have. _Put it behind you_ , he told himself for what had to be the thousandth time. _It's too late_ , was what he told himself immediately afterwards. 

He let out another sob as he remembered his team - the team he'd put together himself after Alex Hopkins had left him the last man standing. Not for the first time, he let his mind wonder what had happened to them these past years and how they were. He tried to tell himself that he was doing fine out here on his own, but, truthfully, he was a mess. When he didn't have his head in a bottle, he was wallowing in self pity and guilt. He never should have gone off with the Doctor again. He should've been braver than that. He should have gone back for Ianto. 

 _I love you, Jack…_ Jack could see Ianto's face clear as day in his mind's eye. The beautiful grey blue eyes and amazing smile that he wanted to see again. _It's too late_ , he told himself again. Alabaster skin and honey brown eyes appeared in Jack's mind. The lovely face was twisted in anger and the eyes were ablaze as Jack imagined Miranda saying, _'It's only too late when he is dead, my friend…'_  

 _Maybe…_ Jack stood up and walked into the navigation room. Maybe Ianto would hate him. Maybe the all would hate him. But after they were all done taking a swing, maybe he could make it right again. 

"Duggie?" Jack asked. 

"Jack-Jack? You should rest," he said, jerking his head towards the habitat pods. "We're on our way to Tau Ceti. It should be a few days." 

Jack shook his head. "You can head to your cousin's if you want, Duggie but can you drop me off somewhere on the way?"

"It's better if we stick together, Jack-Jack," Duggie warned. 

Jack shook his head again. "No, you'll be fine on your own, Duggie. I just… I need you to drop me off on Earth." 

 _"EARTH?!"_ Duggie cried. He stood up from the console. "Jack are you insane? We've got the Syndicate after us! They'll be on our elbows soon!"

"Heels, Duggie. They'll be on our heels," Jack corrected. "And they don't know I was on the job with you three. Listen, just drop me off on Earth. You'll make better time if you're not dragging me with you. Go to Tau Ceti, dump the ship. Your cousin can strip it down and then you run. If you head to the Nepanthian cluster, you'll be fine. The Syndicate won't know to look for you there." 

"This is a bad idea, Jack-Jack," Duggie said, shaking his own head. 

"Please, Duggie," he begged. "I've… I've got to make things right." 

Duggie saw a glimpse of the daevoch behind his friend. Jack finally turning and facing his demons and Duggie couldn't stand in the way of that. He sat back down at the console and started tapping in the coordinates for Earth. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, Jack-Jack," he said, softly. 

"Thank you, Duggie," Jack said, relieved. "Thank you." 

 _Ianto, I'm coming home_ …


	18. Chapter 18

Henry was sitting on the sofa in his hotel suite, nervously jiggling his leg and checking his watch. He took a deep breath and told himself to calm down. He got up and went through his pack again, ensuring he had everything. His head snapped up when he heard Beethoven’s Ode to Joy begin blaring. He nearly stumbled as he reached for his mobile. 

“Joe? Yes… Yes… I’m all set… I’ll be down in a few minutes…” It took Henry less than five minutes to gather his things and get down to the lobby. Fish was waiting for him, leaning against one of the sofas. He hurried over, taking one of Henry’s bags from him.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, smiling.

Hoping he wasn’t blushing as badly as he thought, Henry handed over his paint box.

“Do I have to keep this flat?” Fish asked.

Henry shook his head as he walked out to the car park. “No, everything is secure.”

“I’m parked this way,” Fish said, jerking his head to the left. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“I have directions. They’re not complicated,” Henry said.

Fish helped load Henry’s things into the boot and then they headed for the motorway. Henry jumped a few times at several of Fish’s lane changes. They had a few small quarrels over how close the speedometer needle was edging towards the speed limit. Fish parked the car and said, annoyed, “What a backseat driver you are.”

“We’re in no rush, Joe,” Henry said, equally annoyed. “There is no reason for you to break every traffic rule in existence.”

“I’m a very safe driver, thank you very much,” Fish said, indignant. He opened the boot and took out their packs. “And if you have such a problem with my skills behind the wheel, you can drive back.”

“I would be delighted,” Henry said, smugly. He shouldered his rucksack and his paints and started for the trail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fish roll his eyes at him and then smile.

They took the trail slowly, enjoying the scenery. Henry couldn’t help but notice that Fish was distracted and not entirely himself. There was obviously something occupying his thoughts. Henry felt badly. He wondered if this excursion had caused Fish even more trouble at home and his friend was turning over in his head how to smooth it out.

Not for the first time, Henry wondered how someone could exist in such a clearly stifling relationship. A pang of disappointment and sadness ran through him. Fish deserved better. He deserved mutual respect and companionship, not this iron fist rule his wife seemed to have him under. He was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed that Fish had wandered slightly off the path. He was approaching a small drop off, curious to see the edge.

“Shit!” Fish shouted as his arms pinwheeled.

Without care or thought to hiding his strength, Henry bolted forward, grabbing Fish by the arm and pulled him away from the edge. He threw his arms around him and held tightly to prevent him from falling.

“Bloody branch… I didn’t see it,” Fish said, taking a deep breath.

Henry saw the branch sticking out from the ground. He swiveled his head to ask if Fish was all right but when their eyes met, the words died in his throat as the hazel eyes swallowed him. The moment stretched between them. The great lever of will shifted as Henry suppressed the need to snog Fish senseless. He let go of him and stepped back, swallowing hard. He turned quickly away, trying to calm his pounding heart. He tried not to sound as breathless as he felt. The way Fish had leaned forward must have been his imagination. His voice was weak and quiet. “Are you injured, Joe?”

“No… I just lost my balance.”

Henry attributed the tremble in his voice to the near stumble. He gave him a warm smile and nodded up the path. “There is a lovely scenic spot just up the way. We could stop for a small lunch.”

Fish smiled back. “I’m getting a bit peckish.”

The two of them meandered up the road, keeping a fair distance between them. Henry could feel the tension between them had shifted. They sat on the hillside, gazing out over the landscape. He was quite aghast Fish’s choice of portable food. He gave the protein bars a nasty look.

Henry got up to relieve his bladder out of sight and when he came back his breath caught in his throat. Fish was laying back, his head resting on his rucksack. One hand was on his belly and the other was behind his neck. Henry walked over to his paints and began setting them out. Fish didn’t move and that was when Henry noticed he’d fallen asleep. Henry began painting the hillside with Fish laying on it. When he was done, he leaned back, admiring his work.

_He’s not yours_ … he told himself firmly. But he wanted him to be. His soul reached out for this wonderful man. Henry wanted to cradle Fish to him and never let him go. He hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time. 

Fish stirred and stretched. He yawned and stood up, stretching further. Henry quickly slid the wet panel into his case and began cleaning up his paints. Fish walked over with an eager look on his face. The look immediately changed to one of disappointment.

“Finished already? I wanted to see what you’d painted,” he said. He handed Henry several paper towels.

“I’ve learned to pack away my panel immediately before it gets ruined with dirt or debris,” Henry said. It was only a partial lie. Embarrassed, he hadn’t wanted Fish to see his subject matter.

“Can I help you clean up?” Fish asked.

With a smile, Henry handed him a few brushes. “Wipe the excess paint from them.”

Happy to help, Fish did as instructed. In no time, the two of them had things cleaned and were ready to start back to the car. Like the hike to the moor, the two of them took their time, stopping often. As they walked, Henry felt peaceful and happy. It had been a wonderful day and he couldn’t have imagined spending it in better company. When they reached the car, the sun was low on the horizon and the sky was full of colour. Fish shut the boot after digging out his last protein bar. Henry took out a snack of his own. They leaned against the car, watching the sunset together. Henry felt his breath catch in his throat as Fish leaned against him. Their arms were flush against each other as they ate. Henry wished he could have watched the colourful sky with Fish in his arms. He shook off the fantasy.

"Those are most unhealthy, Joe," he scolded… again.

Henry could see the annoyance flicker across Fish’s face just as it had the last time he’d made the same comment. He’d said nothing earlier in response but this time asked, "What? Protein, vitamins, minerals, a little bit of chocolate to make you feel indulgent… what's wrong with them?"

"Processed swill," Henry said, shaking his head. He had no idea how anyone could consider these extruded squares of sugar a proper meal. Henry thought they were no better than eating an entire candy bar.

"You're eating dehydrated meat!" Fish exclaimed, pointing at Henry's beef jerky.

"Organic dehydrated meat," Henry corrected and then laughed. He sealed the bag. He opened up a wet wipe and began cleaning his fingers. He didn’t miss Fish’s eye roll.

"How do you paint something like that?" Fish asked, changing the subject. "It only lasts for a few minutes and then it's gone."

"Very quickly," Henry quipped. His bemusement deepened as he held out his hand. "I believe you said I would be spared your driving habits on our return trip?"

A pleased look came over Fish’s face as he took out his camera phone and said, "Stay just like that."

"I beg your pardon?" Henry asked, aghast at the phone's appearance.

"I just want a few pictures," Fish said. He snapped the picture quickly before Henry could object further, a soft smile spreading over his face. He started looking around.

"Excuse me!" he called out to another pair of hikers coming off the trail. "Do you mind taking some pictures of us please?"

The young couple smiled and nodded, taking Fish's phone from them. Unabashed, Fish threw his arm around Henry, smiling broadly.

"C'mon, Henry, smile," Fish coaxed.

He gave his companion an annoyed and impatient look. Henry avoided being photographed. In this day and age of digital imagery and the Internet, it was the easiest way for someone to notice that he never aged. He was about to protest, loudly, when Fish said, softly, “For me?”

That lightly pleading tone was one Henry couldn’t ignore. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. The couple took a few pictures and handed Fish his mobile. The young woman said, "You two make a cute couple."

Henry felt his heart flutter when Fish didn't try to correct them but instead said, “Thanks."

He immediately turned back to the car, swiping his finger along the touchscreen. Henry gave a friendly smile to the hikers, thanked them for taking the time and turned back towards the car. When he settled behind the driver’s seat, Fish was staring at his phone. To Henry’s surprise, he’d set one of the pictures as the phone’s background. Henry swore he was imagining the longing but pained look Fish was giving the picture.

"Joe? Is something the matter?” Henry asked, looking at him curiously.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Henry.”

He heard the lie but didn’t press. He ignored the sadness radiating off his friend and turned the car back towards Manchester. As they neared the city, Henry could feel the despair in Fish growing. He wondered if Fish had been downplaying his unhappy home life if he were truly dreading returning home this much. Normally a slow and careful driver, Henry drove even slower, trying to delay whatever Fish was dreading as much as possible. It took significantly longer to get back to the city and when Henry finally parked the car, it was very late.

He turned the car off and turned, studying Fish’s face.

"Joe? Are you certain nothing is the matter?” Henry asked, concerned. He resisted reaching out for Fish’s hand or arm.

Fish didn't answer him. He just got out of the car and opened the boot. Henry followed him, and heaved his rucksack over his shoulder and was about to reach for his paint box when Fish grabbed it instead. He said, quietly, "I'll carry it for you."

Henry decided not to argue. He just led Fish into the hotel. They rode the lift up and Henry opened the suite door for him. He dropped his rucksack by the sofa. With infinite care, he took the wet panel out of the box and laid it across the table to dry. Something was weighing on Fish’s mind. So, Henry walked over to the hotel minibar and took out two small bottles of liquor. He poured the out into glasses and handed onto Fish. He sat down on the sofa, drinking it down in one swallow.

"I hope I didn't stop you from painting," Fish said. He sat down and waved his empty glass at the table, indicating the wet panel. "You brought half a dozen of those panels with you and you only used the one."

Henry shrugged. "Sometimes I see something that captures my interest… sometimes I do not."

Fish asked shyly, "Am I what captured your interest there?"

"Joe…" Henry started, shifting uncomfortably.

Before Henry could finish whatever he was saying, Fish interrupted him. He tapped his temple. "I spend a lot of time living up in here, in my head. My brain's always rabbiting on about something and ever since the gallery the only thing bouncing around in my head is you. Took me a while to figure out why and to deal with it. I'm still dealing with it, to be honest."

Henry’s heart should be leaping at what Fish was saying. This man who Henry was hopelessly and completely in love with was confessing feelings of the same. But elation wasn’t what Henry was feeling. He could feel the sadness and finality in Fish’s voice. “Joe…"

"Let me finish, Henry," he said softly. He looked into Henry's green eyes. "Fancying you has confused the fuck out of me but that's not why I'm saying this. I'm a decent bloke… a respectable bloke… I've had a great time this week and… today… the best…"

"But this will be the last time we shall see each other," Henry finished for him with equal sadness. His heart cracked right down the middle. He swallowed hard, feeling tears welling.

Fish continued in a voice that wasn’t entirely steady, “You've been so… so wonderful. I just… I wanted you to know… you deserve to know the truth about why… why I have to say goodbye."

There was nothing to be said or done. Fish was right. This couldn’t continue. Now that they both felt the same way, this friendship had become not only improper, but dangerous. Fish had a wife. A son.

"I understand," Henry replied, sadly. "I'll miss you, Joe."

"I'll miss you too," Fish replied. "I just… if I could ask for one thing before I go?"

"Anything." Henry braced himself for some speech where Fish asked him not to contact him ever again.

Instead, Fish reached out and put his palm on Henry’s chest, sliding it upwards and curling it behind his neck. Henry’s heart began to pound again. The lightness of the touch made blood pool in his groin and sent desire racing through his chest. With his other hand, Fish reached up and brushed his fingers down Henry's cheek. The caress was so tender that Henry felt his heart break further at the thought of never seeing this man again.

There was begging in Fish’s eyes and then he made a request, “Kiss me, Henry? Just once…”

There were so many reasons why Henry shouldn’t satisfy that request. He didn’t think about a one of them. He leaned forward, locking his lips with Fish’s. He poured everything he felt for him into that kiss, making it deep and sensual and felt Fish shiver against him. If this was to be the only intimacy they shared, Henry wanted it to communicate as much as he could. Without breaking the kiss, Fish maneuvered himself onto Henry's lap. Henry wrapped his arms around him, his hands sliding up between Fish's shoulder blades. He didn’t want this to ever end. He felt complete and whole for the first time in centuries. This man felt like home.

Henry couldn’t stop his hands from sliding down, cupping Fish's arse and pulling him in closer. Fish moaned into his mouth. He seized Henry's shoulders and, again without breaking the kiss, he pushed the other man flat onto the sofa, laying between his legs, attacking his neck. Alarms were going off in Henry’s mind, loud klaxons screaming at him to stop this before it went too far but the truth was that it had gone too far ages ago. The desire swirled through him with each pound of his heart. He wanted to drag Fish into the bedroom and bathe him in pleasure. He couldn’t ever remember wanting someone so badly. Possessiveness and love rose up in his chest.

What brought Henry back to his senses was the feeling of cloth being tugged from his jeans. He tilted his head away and pushed on Fish's chest, tugging the cloth out of his hands.

Even though it broke his heart, he barely managed to gasp, "Joe, stop… We shouldn’t. We can’t.”

Fish pulled back, hanging his head. He let out a growl of frustration. He got up off the sofa and slammed his hand against his empty glass. It hit the wall and shattered. He buried his face in his hands, scrubbing hard, smearing the tears. He dropped his arms and stared at his feet as he said, flatly, “I’m… I… Goodbye, Henry.”

He stood up and started for the door. With every step he took, Henry felt a piece of his heart break away. He stood up, momentarily giving into the desire to pursue his love… but this was the way it had to be. He stood there, fighting back his own tears. He wanted to throw himself on his knees and beg Fish to stay, to not leave him. He swallowed on a dry throat. He couldn’t let Fish walk away without telling him… without saying it once… No, it wasn’t fair to either of them. He wouldn’t make this harder on them than it obviously was.

Fish stopped at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He leaned his forehead against it, banging once and then twice. He curled his hand into a fist and then forced it open, laying his fingers on the knob. He turned it and opened the door. He was about to step through it but was frozen on the spot. Fish took one more step but instead of continuing into the hallway, he shut the door and turned back

Henry stood there, dumbstruck, as Fish walked back towards him. There was a hungry look in his eyes. He seized Henry’s arms in his hands and shoved him up against the wall. He was so stunned, it took him a moment to respond when Fish crashed his mouth into his. The moment Fish’s tongue touched his, he let out a deep, relieved moan, sliding down the wall a little as his legs tried to give way. He ran his hands up Fish’s back and pulled him in close. He regained some of his wits as they broke apart for air.

“Joe, stop… wait… We can’t…”

“Shut up, Henry!” he snarled.

The words stunned Henry into silence, their familiarity, their tone. Fish lifted his head, looking down at Henry's flushed face. Words whispered in his mind, like the fingertips of a ghost on his heart…  _I love you_ … The words had sent a wave of deja vu through him and a vivid memory blossomed in Fish's mind. 

**flash…** _ another hotel room and Henry's legs wrapped around his hips, his lips on Henry's collarbone _ …  **flash…** _ his world blurring as Henry moved within him… _ **flash…** _ the cold breeze of Cardiff bay and Henry's warm lips on his for the very first time…  _ **flash…**

Henry hadn't noticed the strange look on Fish's face because his own expression had changed. In his mind, memories, one after another in quick succession, were flashing like a slideshow.

**flash…** _ another hotel room sofa and Fish above him, the look on his face equal parts ecstasy and surprise… _ **flash…** _ Fish's nude body pressed against his on a Paris hotel balcony…  _ **flash…** _ His arms around Fish's neck, standing at the terminal in Vancouver airport… _ **flash…**

"I know you… how do I know you?" Fish gasped. He sat back and stared at Henry in astonishment.

"Joe…" Henry whispered.

The strange memories were still flooding both their minds. Henry pressed his fingers into his temples, his head throbbing a bit.

"What the fuck is going on?" Fish whispered. 

"I don't know… I have… memories of you… us," Henry said. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"I remember you too," Fish said, confused. "We met in Cardiff?"

It sounded like he was repeating it to himself just to solidify the memory.

"You came to Vancouver on holiday?” Henry said, grasping at the memories in his mind. They were becoming easier and easier to hold on to.

"We made love in your bed," Fish whispered.

"The shower…" Henry smiled.

"… the sofa…" Fish smiled. "We live in Cardiff together?"

The more pieces that fell together the more pieces were revealed.

"That's why I thought your last name was Fitzroy…" Fish stood up and gasped, “Four hundred and ninety five… You’re four hundred and ninety five.”

Fish felt a strange duality within him merging. More memories popped into his head, more solid and concrete than before. With each memory he was able to hold onto more. The more he remembered, the more he realised something was very, very wrong…

The two men looked at each other and simultaneously said, "We need to find Torchwood." 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

Henry hastily packed his things and checked out of the hotel. By unspoken agreement, he and Fish jogged towards Henry's rental car, quickly loading the boot with plans to head for Cardiff and Torchwood.  

"What do you think is happening, Joe?" Henry asked, nervous. He’d seen a lot of things in five hundred years of life but nothing that would explain two separate sets of memories in his mind. He remembered Fish but he also didn’t. He had clearly met him at the gallery last week but he’d also clearly met him nearly two years ago in Cardiff. He knew precisely what sort of work Torchwood did, the existence of aliens and time travel while simultaneously believing it was solely the domain of fiction. The whole thing had him on the edge of panic. If Fish wasn’t also experiencing the same phenomenon, Henry would’ve been certain that time had finally worn away his wits and he’d lost his mind. 

"I don't know Henry. I could be a bunch of things… collapsing parallel universe… alternative time lines," Fish was muttering under his breath. "Just drive me to the house. I need to pack some things and then we can start for Cardiff. This could be bad… like crossing the fucking streams bad. The universe could be breaking down.”

"We can be in Cardiff by morning," Henry said but then he caught sight of the ring on Fish's finger. "Your wife…" 

"Told me to sod off ten years ago," Fish said. Anger and bitterness rose in his throat. He slipped the ring off his finger and into his pocket. "We'll figure this out Henry. We'll… we’ll fix it…" 

Fish's voice trailed off and Henry turned. 

"Joe? What's the matter?" 

 _David…_ Fish hesitated. He dug in his mind, trying to see David in these other memories and he couldn't. The realisation horrified him. In this other set of memories, he had no idea David even existed. If he fixed things, he would gain Henry… but he would lose David.

"You have a son… Tom,” Fish said, softly. 

Henry gaped at him but nodded. 

"David… my son, David… if we change things, I'll lose him. I won't even know he's alive." Fish said. He slipped his wedding ring back on. "I can't…" 

"I understand," Henry replied and he did. He started to back away from Fish slowly. 

The memories assaulted Fish's mind as his heart broke. He saw both paths of his life. He saw the happiness and joy that David had brought him. He saw the same from Henry. He couldn’t ignore the devastating heartbreak Olivia had caused but Henry was the love of his life. He couldn't ignore that either. How could he chose between his son and Henry? What was staying in a loveless marriage teaching his son? Fish saw compromise. 

 _Leap of faith, Fischer…_ Fish took two long strides and seized Henry's hands. "Take me back upstairs, Henry." 

"Joe…" 

"One night, Henry. Just give me just one night and we'll go from there. _Please,_ " Fish begged. The idea of life without this man was nearly as unthinkable and unbearable as life without David. "I'll ask Olivia for a divorce. I'll get joint custody of David. I'm _not_ walking away from you. I couldn't do it then and I can't do it now." 

He cupped Henry's face and stared him straight in the eyes. "I love you, Henry." 

"I love you too,” Henry replied. 

He’d lose himself with Henry for one night and tomorrow… tomorrow he’d face the music about the affair. Fish knew the divorce and the fight to keep his son would be hard and bitter and long but with Henry by his side, Fish felt like he could do anything. He kissed Henry, slow and deep. Erotic images, one after another, flooded his mind. _We have all night_ … he thought, shivering with desire. His mouth began to water as he imagined and half remembered the feel of Henry's hardness in his mouth, the wonderful taste of him when he- 

"Joe?" a female voice called out, shakily. 

The kiss crumbled and Fish's heart plummeted into his stomach. His hands became ice cold, a clammy sweat popping out over him. He turned around and felt the blood draining out of his face. He croaked, "Olivia?" 

Olivia's face was ashen. She was clutching her purse over her chest. Horror and shock were on every inch of her face. She staggered away. 

"OLIVIA!" Fish shouted, running after her. He looked at Henry as he ran after his wife. He called over his shoulder, "Don't go anywhere, Henry. Please! Stay right there!" 

He grabbed Olivia's arm just as she got back for her own car. He'd told Olivia precisely where he'd be today - the hiking trail and the hotel where he was picking up Henry. Suspicious, she must have followed him. 

"Get your bloody hands off me, Joseph Fischer!" she snapped at him. She shook him off and then slapped him straight across the face with a loud crack. 

"I deserve that," Fish said, holding his face. 

"You're bloody well right you do! So that's your 'friend' Henry is it? How long has this been going on, Joe?" Olivia screeched pointing at the car park. "All those perfectly ‘sensible’ reasons to not have another baby? You fucking liar! Another man?! Were you ever planning on telling me? Or were you just going to lead me on for the rest of our lives?" 

"Livie, I swear, that's not what's going on! Please!" he pleaded with her. 

"Get the fuck away from me, Joe!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. Her trembling hands dug for her keys. 

"Doesn't this all seem wrong to you?" he shouted after her, throwing his arm out to the side. 

"You and another man? What could I possibly see wrong about that?" she screeched at him, nearly hysterical. 

"You… me… everything!" Fish shouted at her. "I remember you leaving me. You showed up at my stag party and told me it was over. You called off the wedding!" 

She gaped at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What are you talking about, Joe!?" 

He strode forward. "Tell me it's a lie! _Think_ , Livie!" 

Confusion passed over her face. For a moment, it looked like she remembered. It was just a flicker then it was gone. The anger rose back up. “No! NO! I will not let you turn this around on me! I want a divorce! Go back to your boy toy! If you think you're getting joint custody of David, you're wrong!" 

Olivia stormed away. 

"You are not taking my son away from me, Olivia! Not again!" 

She whirled. "What are you talking about?" 

He stormed over to her. "You never told me about him. He's the reason you called off the wedding isn't it? I told you I never wanted kids so you panicked! You left me and you took my son with you! You're keeping him from me! How could you do such a thing, Livie?" 

"You are completely mental!" she screamed at him. 

Fish blinked a few times, pressing his fingers into his temples. It was so bloody confusing! Which memories were from this reality and which ones were from the other one? "Livie, please! He's my son too!" 

"You better get yourself a bloody good solicitor, Joe!" she yelled. 

Fish didn't stop her when she got into the car and sped off. He pressed his mouth into a thin line. There was only one way to fix this now. He turned towards Henry. He put his arms around his neck and began to cry. Henry held him tightly. He tried to comfort Fish but it didn’t feel like he was helping. It felt like he’d completely ruined Fish’s life. Fish pulled away and walked towards Henry's rental car. Henry watched as Fish slipped his wedding ring back off his finger and dropped it. The gold sparkled as it rolled across the ground and disappeared down a storm grate. 

Fish took out his mobile and dialed. Henry tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation but once he heard Fish's voice crack, he ran for him. He put his arms around Fish's shoulders. He thought Fish would shrug him off but he held onto Henry tighter as he spoke. 

"…I don't know when I'll be home, kiddo… Yes, your Mum's on her way home now. She’s going to be sad when she gets there… No, absolutely not! This isn't your fault. It's _mine._ Do you understand? This is _my_ fault. You didn't do anything wrong… I wish it was as easy as saying I'm sorry… Hey, hey, listen to me, David. You need to be strong for me and take care of your Mum, okay?… I'm going to make it right, I promise. It's just going to take me a bit… Have I ever lied to you? I'll ring soon… Bye, kiddo. I love you." 

He disconnected the call and turned. He hugged Henry tightly. Fish’s voice was a bit muffled when he spoke into Henry’s shoulder. His voice shook. “I… I can't go back to the house… I'm going to need to borrow your clothes for the trip, Henry. We're driving to Cardiff. Tonight.” 

Henry didn’t argue. He took the keys from Fish's hands. He was in no state to drive. For the first time, the silence between them was awkward as they got into the car. The awkward silence continued as they drove down the M6. The time and the miles slipped by. They'd nearly reached Birmingham when Fish finally spoke. He didn’t look at Henry, just stared out his window. 

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" Fish asked, his voice rough. 

"I'm fine, Joe," Henry said softly. He nervously cleared his throat. “You've been very quiet. Are you all right?"

“What the fuck makes you think I’d be bloody all right?” Fish snapped. He immediately felt badly. “Sorry. I shouldn't take this out on you. It's not your fault." 

Henry lowered his voice and sighed. “I am sorry I have disrupted your life so.” 

"It's not you, Henry. Nothing has felt right all week," Fish said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "And it's because none of this is right at all." 

"You said something of it before but I didn't understand what you meant. Do you know the source of these strange memories?" 

"There are a couple explanations… none of them are good." 

"Enlighten me, love," Henry said, seriously. 

Fish sighed. “Think of time like this motorway. Each exit leads down a different pathway. The best way to explain is with an example. Might as well use my own fucked up life. When Olivia accidentally got pregnant with David, she had a choice. She could’ve told me or kept it from me. In this reality, she told me-"

"-and in the other, she did not," Henry finished.

"Exactly. She made a choice, and like a fork in the road, the events following each choice diverged. If there's been a change in our time line-"

"-the new course of events is causing disruptions in our memories," Henry supplied.

"Eventually one will replace the other. Events, people and memories will shift to align with the new ones," Fish said, shaking his head. "The other option, the more scary one, involves parallel universes. With a change in time line, the fork in the road vanishes as if it never was, but with parallel universes, like with the motorway, just because you didn't get off at the exit doesn't mean it vanishes like it never existed. Each choice creates their own reality or parallel universe. One possibility is that the universe where she chose to hide David from me is merging with this one. Usually parallel universes are distinct, separated from each other. Their colliding is not a good thing. If one universe is breaking down-"

"-all of them could be…" Henry said, a bit frightful. 

"Exactly. Bloody hell, we're finishing each other's sentences just like we used to… like we do… fucking confusing bollocks…" Fish said, planting his fist on the dash. "There are a few other things that could be going on but these are the two most probable." 

Henry glanced at the clock in the car. "We'll be in Cardiff shortly. It's nearly two." 

"Evie, Jack and Ianto should be at the Hub," Fish said. "Bugger! I won't be able to get in! My access code won't work. I don't have a key for the garage or the Tourist Office anymore… or rather I never did. Bloody hell this is so fucking confusing!" 

"I can ring Mao-Lin," Henry said. "Hand me my mobile, Joe." 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea yet. If everything’s as backwards as I think it is, she thinks I think she's dead," Fish said, shaking his head. 

“I beg your pardon?” Henry exclaimed. What Fish had just said went over his head… again. 

"Back at the turn of the millennium, Evie faked her own death though at the time I didn't know that. She did it so she could move to the UK to work for Torchwood. I thought she was dead. In this reality, I don't work for Torchwood. I shouldn't know anything about her or the Game." 

"She will not understand your presence," Henry said, understanding. "It will be me ringing, Joe. That is not something out of the ordinary. The hour may alarm her but nothing more." 

"You don't get it, Henry. She's going to react… strongly," Fish said, shaking his head. "In the other reality, I figured it all out and when I showed up at the Tourist Office, she beat the shit out of me, drugged me, stole four months of my memory and covered it all up with an RTA that put four screws and a metal plate into my leg." 

Henry's eyes burned with anger. "That woman…" he growled. 

"Don't be angry with her, Henry," Fish said, laying his hand on Henry's arm. "I'd stumbled onto her secrets. She didn't have a choice. I don't want her reacting the same way this time. We need to be a bit more tactful." 

"We could wait until morning rather than appearing on her doorstep in the middle of the night. It would be far less alarming. She knows that I am in the UK,” Henry said and he cleared his throat, nervously. "I'm certain we could find rooms for the night somewhere." 

Fish nodded, trying not to let feel disappointment at Henry's use of the word 'rooms'. "St. David's is close to the Hub." 

Henry nodded and continued to drive. Since it was the middle of the night, the roads were mostly deserted and they made good time in spite of Henry's slow driving. They parked and the two men heaved Henry's cases out of the boot, wheeling them into the hotel. 

"Good evening, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?" the clerk asked. 

"No, I'm afraid we’ve come to Cardiff unexpectedly. Do you have anything available?" Henry asked, digging for his wallet. He dropped his credit card onto the counter. 

"We do," the clerk said, tapping on her computer. Fish could see her eyeing their luggage, attempting to assess the situation. Two blokes with one set of luggage. She asked, delicately, "Will that be one room or two?" 

Henry cast a cautious glance at Fish. He cleared his throat and said, softly, "Two rooms is fine. Adjoining if poss-“ 

"Just one," Fish interrupted. The glass house of his life was already shattered. What was throwing a few more stones? A memory suddenly popped into his head. "Suite five twenty six if it's available." 

Henry gave Fish a startled look as he also remembered the significance of the room number. 

"It is, sirs," the clerk said, smiling. She handed them two plastic keycards. "Enjoy your stay, gentlemen." 

Fish's heart pounded in his chest the entire way up to the suite. They wheeled the cases inside and shut the door behind them. Henry didn’t look up. In a quiet voice, he said, "I've no expectations, Joe. If you aren't comfortable-"

But Henry didn't get to finish his sentence. Fish had him pinned against the closed door and was snogging him senseless. Henry felt his knees give way as he returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, moaning into Fish's mouth. The only thing holding him up was Fish’s body pressed into his. They broke apart, panting, their lips and noses brushing together. Henry was trembling.  

"Shut up, Henry," Fish said, huskily and then dragged Henry towards the bedroom.


	20. Chapter 20

Miranda was standing at the head of the boardroom table, smiling at the rest of the team. They’d just finished a video conference of the utmost importance. Tosh had been set up the live stream in the boardroom and, for once, the whole team was of one opinion. The live video had come to them life from the hospital room of Gwen Cooper, featuring new father, Rhys Williams and their newborn son, Gareth Owen Williams. He may have been born a few weeks early, but the babe was strong and healthy. 

After turning off the screen behind her, Miranda smiled at her team and said, "Gwen will be out of hospital in a few days and has decided to take twenty six weeks of maternity leave but that may change. Until then, there are a number of administrative duties and other roles that will need to be shared amongst us." 

Miranda opened the folder in front of her and passed several papers around to the rest of the team members. 

"That is a list of some of Cooper's minor duties that I have reassigned to all of you. A revised copy of all the rotas is also attached. As for the bulk of Gwen’s job, Mr. Jones will be filling in as temporary liaison to all government offices and Andy Davidson will be joining us on a trial basis as our new local liaison," Miranda said. 

There was a collective groan from around the table and Miranda held up her hands, calmingly. 

"I know how you all feel about PC Davidson-"

"He isn't cut out for this sort of work," Ianto interjected. There was a murmur of agreement around the table. 

"PC Davidson will not be a field operative per se. He will only be in the field to liaise with the locals as needed. I believe there is more to him than meets the eye,” Miranda said, giving Ianto a pointed look. "I expect you all to be supportive." 

No one else spoke and Miranda held her hand out to Tosh. Her lover stood and took her hand. Tosh smiled widely and said, "Now that Miranda's dispensed with the official. We have an announcement. We don’t want to steal Gwen’s thunder but…” 

Miranda kissed Tosh's cheek. "I've asked Toshiko for her hand and she's accepted." 

Cameron burst up from his seat and hurried to hug the two women. "Congratulations! That's brilliant! About time you made an honest woman out of her, boss!" 

Ianto stood up and shook Miranda's hand in congratulations. He then turned to Tosh, a disappointed look on his face. He bent, kissing her cheek and said, stiffly, "Congratulations." 

Tosh grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away from Miranda and Cameron. She said in a whispered hiss, "You could be happy for me you know!"

"I am happy for you, Tosh," he insisted. 

"Well bloody act like it!" she snapped. "You're supposed to be my friend!" 

"I'm sorry," he said, seriously. He was spoiling her happiness. "Really, Tosh, I'm happy for you." 

"Are you that cross about Andy?" she asked. 

"That… and a million other things, it seems," he said, running his hand through his hair. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, squeezing his arm.

"Yeah, Tosh, I'd like that," he said, honestly. "Not now though…" 

He'd withdrawn so much over the years. It had been something gradual but even though Ianto hated to admit it, what Miranda had said to him had struck home. It wasn't necessarily what Miranda had said but the fact that every immortal of the Game he knew had given him the same speech at some point. Duncan, Miranda and Methos didn't survive by being completely thick. So Ianto had done some hard thinking and he'd decided to stop walling himself off. Tosh was mortal after all. She'd only be around for so long. Suddenly, the sound of Miley Cyrus echoed through the boardroom. Ianto's smile immediately vanished and was replaced with a spectacular eye roll. He had no idea how Tosh tolerated Miranda's taste in music. 

"Your grace, this is quite the surprise! Is something the matter?… Are you certain?… Breakfast? I thought you were in Manchester… It's a bit late but I do have some wonderful news to share with you. Where are you?…" Miranda's eyebrow rose at the mention of the Plass. _That's rather convenient_ … Suspicion rose in her mind and she waved her arm to get her fiancée's attention. Tosh walked over. "I'm quite close to the Plass myself would you mind waiting there?…" 

Upon overhearing the conversation and seeing the pointed look on Miranda's face, Tosh bounded out of the boardroom to her workstation to bring up the proper CCTV cameras. "Wonderful, it will be lovely to see you, my Lord Richmond…"

Miranda got up and immediately dashed into the main Hub. Her confused team followed her. 

"They're at the Tourist Office," Tosh said, pointing at her screen. 

Miranda leaned into the display, narrowing her eyes. The Duke’s sudden appearance in Cardiff was unusual and his tone had been strange. Miranda had been a bit annoyed but now that she saw who Henry was with, the annoyance had morphed into anger. "I will deal with this." 

Ianto leaned, looking at the screen. "Is that Doctor Fischer and Lord Richmond?" 

Miranda gaped at him. "You know Fish and the Duke?" 

"No, ma'am… the names just… just popped into my head. I've never seen them before," Ianto said, surprised even with himself. "Adam's mentioned the Duke a few times. He calls him 'The Tudor bastard'." 

Ianto had no idea how he'd recognised either man. Methos had described Henry Fitzroy as handsome and young but never in great detail. "What are they doing here?" 

"I do not know," Miranda said, giving Ianto a queer look. She grabbed her sword and coat and walked for the cog wheel door. "But I intend to find out." 

Ianto shook his head, looking at the screen. Then Cameron said with a shrug, "Looks like a social call to me, mate. Won't take her long to send them off." 

"Prepare two cups of tea with a forty eight hour dose of retcon, Jones," Miranda shouted, not turning around as the proximity alarms went off. The cog wheel door rolled aside for her.

The sound nearly drowned out Ianto's reply of, "Yes, ma'am."

Miranda took the lift up, determined to get to the bottom of this strange situation. After she reached the Tourist Office, she paused, listening to the conversation on the other side of the door for a moment. 

"You could have been more subtle, Henry," Fish said, a bit annoyed. 

"What would you have preferred me to say, Joe? Mao-Lin, your old friend, who you think believes you dead, and I spent most of last night in a carnal embrace and we have this ludicrous theory that the universe is about to fly apart?" Henry said, sarcastically. He waved at the camera. "She can see anyway."

Miranda opened the door and leaned against the wood. 

"And why would the universe fly apart, your grace? It's good to see you again, Fish," Miranda said, flatly. She crossed her arms over her chest. She turned her gaze to Henry. "I take it this is whom you wished for me to meet? If you thought I would be displeased you have revealed our secret to my old friend, you are correct." 

Fish raised his eyebrow at the accent. It wasn't what he expected. He'd grown accustomed to Miranda's Irish accent over the years even though she'd had an American one the first time he'd met her. This Welsh accent was positively bizarre and was messing with his mind even more. 

"Evie, wait… there's something going on," Fish said. "We need to talk. Can we go downstairs?" 

"I've no idea what you're talking about Fish," Miranda said, feigning ignorance. 

"The Hub, Evie," Fish insisted. He dug in his pocket for the dark chocolate bar he'd insisted on buying from the hotel shop. He waved it in Miranda's direction. "This is for Myfanwy." 

Miranda looked at him, trying to keep her face an impassive mask. There was no way Joseph Fischer could know any of these things. Even if Henry and Fish were lovers and Henry had told him something of the Game, Henry knew nothing of Torchwood. 

Miranda’s blank stare enraged Fish. The man’s whole life was a disaster and he was reaching an emotional breaking point. “Bloody hell, Evie. I’ve had about as much as I can fucking take. You want proof I know what's below the Plass? Fine… Ryan, Miranda, Torchwood authorisation alpha five seven three, november, foxtrot, four one one six," Fish rattled and Miranda's eyes went wide. "Now, how about you take us downstairs?" 

She had no idea what was going on here but she needed to discover the security breech and close it. Possibilities were going through her head, each one more unlikely than the next. The most prudent thing would be the retcon them but sometimes the most prudent wasn't the best. Questioning them may reveal more. Miranda nodded, allowing Henry and Fish to follow her into the Tourist Office and through the beaded curtain. She descended the stairs with the two of them behind her, one hand on her gun the other on her sword. 

Fish, knowing all of Torchwood's protocols, was on his guard. He'd already advised Henry to refuse any offer of refreshment. The familiarity of the cog wheel door brought him some measure of relief. For some reason, it made everything feel right. When he stepped through, the Hub looked almost exactly the same. Miranda ordered everyone into the boardroom and Fish watched them all from off to the side hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack, Gwen and Ianto. It wasn't what he expected at all. Ianto was there, yes, but Gwen wasn't and neither was Jack. He wondered where the former PC was. He was terrified that Gwen, in this reality or time line, had been killed somehow but her workstation had Rhys's picture on it. If she'd died, her things would have been boxed away. For some even more peculiar reason, Cameron MacDonald walked past him, flashing a nervous smile. When Henry and Fish walked into the boardroom, everyone was seated around the table. Fish and Henry took up the vacant seats. Fish was disappointed that his usual seat was taken up by Ianto. To his surprise, Miranda was sitting at the head of the table, her fingers steepled in front of her. There was still no sign of Jack at all. _Well at least she's still doing her Spock impression…_  

"May I present his grace, Henry Fitzroy," Miranda said, waving in Henry's direction. “Lord Richmond is a former student of mine." 

"Henry VIII's illegitimate son?" Cameron exclaimed. He immediately looked uncomfortable and said, "Sorry, your lordship-“ 

"Please, do not call me that," Henry snapped. 

"Sorry…" Cameron repeated, looking very sheepish. 

"As he's already said, the Duke prefers to be addressed informally,” Miranda said. She waved in Fish's direction. "This is Doctor Joseph Fischer. He's an old friend. There. Introductions made. Now, I would like very much if the two of you explained yourselves." 

Fish stood up and took a deep breath. In a quiet voice, he explained the duality in his memories. When he was finished, he sat down and took a deep breath. Henry reached out, rubbing his arm comfortingly. 

"I don't know how you two know what you know, nor how you know each other, but this is utter madness," Miranda said, dismissively. 

Fish banged the table in front of him with his fist. The frustration was maddening. “Evie, for fuck's sake! There is something going on! We need to figure it out! Why won't you believe me? Where are these memories coming from? How did I know the Hub was beneath the Plass? How do I know that bloody pigeon's name is Myfanwy? How the fuck do I know all this?" 

"His argument is compelling, ma'am," Ianto said. He shifted slightly in his seat. "I've felt something a tad off balance, on and off for the past week. Small things. Have any of you?" 

Miranda glanced at Tosh who shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Fish? Henry? Why don't I have Jones fix you some tea?" 

"If you think you're going to retcon us and send us on our way, you've lost your four fucking thousand year old mind, Evie," Fish snapped.

Miranda glared at Henry.

"I've said nothing to him, Mao-Lin. I do not understand any of this myself. I have said nothing to Joe of the Game nor my immortality. He knows my true identity. He knows of Thomas. I only met Joe last week, yet I have memories of him stretching back nearly two years. Those memories, my memories of this place, are strange - disjointed and disconnected from myself. It is as if I'm remembering a dream," Henry said, waving about the boardroom. He furrowed his brow. "The memories are true and genuine. This place is proof positive of that. I have never been here, but I remember this room… the dinosaur, the strange feather eating creature. When I walked through that rolling door, I felt an immortal presence. I knew it was Mr. Jones I felt though he and I have never met before. I knew I would be safe and had nothing to fear from a fellow student of yours."

"She's not my teacher," Ianto protested. 

Henry raised his eyebrow. His hand drifted closer to the sword leaned against his chair. "I thought-"

"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod was my teacher," Ianto declared with pride. 

"Strange… In these other memories, you died your first death in 2013 and Mao-Lin took you on as student," Henry said. His brow furrowed in concentration. "We are… were brothers, Mr. Jones." 

Ianto's eyebrows went straight for his hairline. That was six years later than it had actually been. "My first death was in 2007." 

Fish could see there were significant inconsistencies between the other memories in his mind and the reality. Ianto had noticed something subtle. Maybe it had been too subtle for Miranda to notice? "What about the name Nora Ashline, Evie? Does that mean anything to you?" 

"Colonel Ashline's daughter? What does she have to do with anything?" Miranda asked. 

"Have you ever met her? How do you even know about her? Did the Colonel say something?" Fish persisted.  

"He must have…" Miranda trailed off. She couldn't recall the Colonel ever mentioning any of his family. Then again, she had no idea how Fish knew of the Colonel.  

Fish said, "She's a mathematician. She has a corgi named-"

"Alvin…" Miranda said. There was no reason she should know that. She turned to Ianto. "You said you felt something was amiss as well, Jones?" 

"That… every time you call me that it feels wrong, ma'am," Ianto said. He shook his head slightly. "Lord Richmond and Doctor Fischer might talk about having 'memories' but I've nothing like that. It's… it's small things. I went looking for the tea and thought it would be in the top cupboard, pushed back, not in the tin on the counter. A few days ago I walked into your office to drop off some paperwork, and I bruised my hip on the edge of your desk. I walked into it, not expecting it to be there but it's been on that side of the room for ages. Sometimes random facts are popping into my head. Like when I saw Doctor Fischer and Lord Richmond on the security camera. I knew who they were." He switched his gaze to Fish. "You're Doctor Joseph Fischer. Your sister's name is… Anne? Or is it Anna? Your ex-fiance… Olivia?"

"Anna. Her name's Anna," Fish said. His left hand twitched. "And my ex-wife's name is Olivia." 

"You're Henry Fitzroy," Ianto said, his eyes settling on Henry. "You're an artist." 

"I painted a portrait of you and Captain Harkness as a gift," Henry said with a nod. 

Ianto was too stunned to be enraged at the idea. Before he could hotly deny wanting or ever having anything to do with Jack Harkness, Fish asked, "Where the bloody hell _is_ Jack, Evie?" 

There was an extremely uncomfortable shift around the table and Fish saw rage smoldering in Miranda's eyes. It was like he'd just uttered a vile curse. 

Miranda gave him a look that made the hair on his neck stand on end. She said, "Captain Harkness vanished nearly seven years ago and has not returned. I am in charge here, Fish." 

"Strange, I have memories of Captain Harkness in this place," Henry said, closing his eyes to focus. "There appears to be a significant difference between what Joe and I are remembering and reality." 

Miranda brought her hand down on the table. "There is nothing amiss. It is possible a parallel universe has collapsed and is merging with our own as Fish has guessed. That is the purview of the Doctor, not Torchwood."

"Evie, listen to me. Parallel universes are supposed to be separate and distinct. They don't just randomly bleed into each other like this!" Fish insisted. "This could be the sign of a serious problem!" 

Fish broke off as the rift alarms went off. Everyone began to leave the boardroom in a rush. Cursing, Fish nearly collided with Tosh at her workstation. He was about to try to narrow and define the area of the spike but he remembered that this was Tosh's workstation, not his. "You're Toshiko Sato." 

She nodded, smiling around her glasses. 

He held his hand out. He felt starstruck, as if in the presence of some big name celebrity. "Sorry, I know Evie… Miranda made introductions. I just wanted to introduce myself anyway… shake your hand… I'm Joe Fischer."

"I gathered," Tosh said with a wry smile. She shook Fish's hand. "Miranda's mentioned you a few times." 

"It's… It's really an honour to meet you," he said, softly. Fish had a million questions about changes she'd made to Torchwood's systems, her programs, her work on the alien tech… but they all died in his throat. Before Tosh could ask why he was behaving so strangely towards her, there was a bright flash of light. 

Jack materialized in the middle of the Hub, transported by some sort of energy beam. He looked around. He saw everyone crowded by Tosh's workstation and smiled. 

"Hey kids, did you miss me?" Jack said and then laughed.


	21. Chapter 21

“Oh my God… Jack…" Tosh gasped. 

"Did you decorate in here?" he asked, turning in place to look around. 

Miranda walked straight for him. Tosh reached out but couldn't grab her in time. Miranda fisted her hand in Jack's shirt, yanked him to face her and then cuffed him right in the jaw. He went sprawling onto the metal walkway. Tosh and Henry surged forward, grabbing Miranda's arms.  

"Miranda! Stop it!" she shouted. 

"Mao-Lin! Contain yourself!" Henry barked. 

She shook off their grip and started to scream at Jack. The venom in her voice made the hair on everyone's arms stand on end. 

"You bastard! You faithless whoreson!" Miranda continued to hurl more curses at Jack but they were in languages none of the others could understand. Jack was ignoring her, getting to his feet. He looked around the room, scanning each face for… 

"Ianto," he gasped out. He was about to take a step towards the Welshman but Ianto saw the half step and took two of his own backwards. 

"I'll ask you to keep your distance… _sir_ ," Ianto said. You could have frozen all of the Atlantic with his tone. 

"Ianto, I…" Jack began.

"Sod it," Ianto said. He took a few steps forward. His right fist flew straight for Jack's face and the immortal man went sprawling again. Fish and Cameron ran forward, grabbing Ianto by the arms. 

"Easy, mate," Cameron said, trying to hold Ianto back. 

"My kind of welcome," Jack said, rubbing his jaw. He got to his feet again and started eyeing the others. "Anyone else want to step up and take a swing?" 

Miranda narrowed her eyes knowing that if Gwen were here, she'd want her chance as well, recovering from a caesarean birth or not. She seriously thought about ringing the former PC to give her that chance. She could even see Rhys wanting to get his hands on Jack. "How about I rip your lungs up through your throat with my bare hands?" 

"Miranda!" Tosh hissed. 

"No, Tosh!" Miranda rounded on Jack. "You dropped the ball, Jack. You dropped it and I had to pick it up! You bastard! You vile oathbreaker!" 

She lunged for Jack and once again Henry and Tosh restrained her. She fought against their hands. "I swear, by the one true God, Jack Harkness, I will get my hands on you and when I do, I will find a way to make it stick!" 

"Calm yourself, Mao-Lin!" Henry snapped. 

"Miranda!" Tosh snapped and then began yelling at her fiancée in Japanese. Whatever she said caused Miranda to turn. The two women started arguing back and forth in Japanese. 

"What the fuck do you want, Jack?" Ianto snapped. He shrugged off Cameron and Fish. The two other men walked away, leaving him and Jack alone. 

Jack had no idea what to say. He'd pictured this moment for so long but reunions like this? They weren't what you saw on television. 

"I needed answers Ianto," he said, his head down. 

"How long has it been for you? It's been seven years for us," Ianto said, trying his best to keep his anger out of his voice. This could be a simple mistake of time travel. This Jack could have left them only a few minutes ago. Ianto found himself hoping, wanting to give Jack the benefit of the doubt.

Jack swallowed. It hadn't been seven years for him but it hadn't been a few moments either. He spent so much time telling half truths and lies, genuine and of omission. There was no way Jack would ever win Ianto’s heart if he continued to lie to him. 

"Three years," he said, softly. "I travelled with the Doctor for a few-"

"Goodbye, Jack," Ianto said, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to hear the explanation. Jack had gotten his answers or gotten fixed or both and had just stayed away. Ianto didn't really care why. 

"I'm back, Ianto," Jack said. He reached forward for Ianto's arm. He looked the Welshman straight in the eyes and said, "I came back. For you."

Ianto shook of his grip and let out a sarcastic snort. He spat, "Liar." 

He turned his back and started walking towards the kitchen and Jack bolted after him. He snagged his arm again, pulling hard. "Ianto! Wait!" 

"Don't fucking touch me," he snapped, yanking himself out of Jack's grip. "You need to leave, Jack." 

Jack held his hands up, calmingly. "Look, Ianto, I know I haven't done anything to deserve a second chance-"

"The understatement of the century…" Ianto said, rolling his eyes.

"-but I'm not going anywhere," he said. He took a cautious step towards the other man. "I… I missed you." 

"You're such a liar. Three years, Jack? I'm certain it was more than tolerable for you," Ianto sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Guess all that dashing about kept you distracted enough. Until now." 

The anger in Ianto's voice caught Jack off guard. This wasn't the man he'd left behind before the Year that Never Was. 

Ianto shook his head in disbelief. “You are unbelievable! This is _not_ as simple as you walking in here with your coat and your pheromones and flashing that smile of yours for everything to be all right again! You abandoned us, Jack!" _Abandoned me._ Ianto lowered his voice so the others wouldn't hear him. "You weren't here to see what it did to Gwen. What it did to Tosh. Or to Owen! I was the daft bastard who stood up for you. I was the one who told everyone you were coming back! Do you know what a colossal idiot I looked like to all of them? I went before Her Majesty and I begged for you, Jack. Every year that went by, I looked like more and more the fool." 

"I'm here now, Ianto," Jack said, meekly. 

"And what? I should fall on my knees with gratitude? Fuck you!" Ianto pushed forward, leaning in aggressively. Jack just stood there, the rawness taking him by surprise. "When that blowfish shot me and I woke up an immortal of the Game, I thought it was a gift. I thought since there'd be no 'death by Torchwood' for me that I'd live long enough to see you again, maybe find out if you ever found your answers, but I got over that right quick. Then, I started to hope that I would _never_ see you _ever_ again but now I'm actually glad you're here because I finally get to say this… I hate you for every time I heard Gwen crying in your office when she thought no one could hear her. I hate you for every single sleepless night Tosh spent here, scanning the cosmos looking for you. I hate you for every single drunken rampage that Owen went on while he cursed your name. And most of all I hate you for making me fucking believe in you in the first place. I _hate_ you, Jack."


	22. Chapter 22

Jack stood there as Ianto walked away from him. _He hates me…_ he thought, heartbroken. It took a minute for everything Jack had just learned to sink into his head and it all broke his heart. Ianto was immortal? Jack had never wanted that for Ianto but there was nothing he could do. He thought about it for a few moments and was almost glad. It didn't matter that Ianto hated him now. He could still win Ianto back. They were both immortal. They had time. Under his breath, in a barely audible, frightened voice, Jack whispered what he should have shouted after him, "I love you, Ianto…" 

"Jack?" Fish said. "You okay?" 

He turned, desperately hoping this stranger hadn't heard what he'd said. "Uh, I'm fine. Who are you?" 

Fish sighed. This was so frustrating. “Joe Fischer." 

"Good to meet you, Joe," he said, holding out his hand. The smile was Jack's usual ten thousand watt grin but it didn't make its way to his eyes. 

"First off, stop it and second, it's really strange hearing you call me that," Fish said, giving Jack a surprised. 

"I was just saying hello!" Jack protested. "Wait? What? You don't want me to call you Joe?" 

Fish physically winced. "You always call me Fish. Everyone here does." 

Jack looked apologetic. "Sorry, Fish." 

Fish groaned at his own stupidity. He hated when the team called him Fish and he'd never been able to get them to stop. Now, Jack was successfully calling him by name and now he’d gone and gotten him to use the dreadful nickname. _Bugger…_ "Look, Jack…"

"Wait, we've met before?" Jack asked. 

"In another reality, we have," Fish said. He started to speak rapidly. "Look, Jack, you need to listen to me. Evie… Miranda thinks I'm mental but you _have_ to listen to me, please. All this is wrong. Everything. You. Ianto. Evie. Tosh. Henry. That medic bloke who's name I don't know… It's all fucking wrong." 

Jack shook his head, looking towards the east stairs. "I messed up." 

Fish rolled his eyes. He didn't expect to have to compete with Jack's Atlas complex. "Jack will you shut the fuck up for a minute and listen to me!" 

Jack was still ignoring him. He craned his neck more towards the east stairs and Ianto. "I prefer a team of five but with all of you and Gwen that makes seven. Where's Gwen? Owen?" 

"Jack, I don't have time to catch you up," Fish barked. He finally lost his temper, grabbing the immortal man and turning him to face him. "I don't work here." 

"Then what are you doing here? You're not UNIT are you?" 

"That's what I'm trying to _tell_ you, Jack!" He shook the immortal man a bit. "In _this_ time line, this is the first time we're meeting. In the _other_ time line, I met you back in 2009. You offered me a job here.” 

"Other time line?" Jack asked, looking confused and concerned at the same time. 

"Yes! The other time line. I've got two sets of memories floating around in my head," Fish said, letting go of Jack. He pointed at Henry. “This is Henry. He doesn't work here either. In this time line, I met him last week. In the other time line, I met him over two years ago." 

Jack furrowed his brow and turned to Henry. "Is he serious?" 

"Quite, Captain Harkness," Henry said. He waved at his former teacher. "Mao-Lin is my former teacher. She does not believe there is anything amiss." 

"That's because there is nothing amiss, my Lord Richmond," Miranda insisted. 

Frustrated, Fish growled. "How do you explain this, Evie? How do you explain my knowing everything I know? The Hub? Torchwood? The Game?" 

Before Miranda could open her mouth, the rift alarm went off again. Fish, automatically, turned towards what he thought of as his workstation to narrow the spike but, again, he nearly collided with Tosh who was already standing there. Smiling, she stepped aside. 

"If you say you know something about Torchwood, prove it," she said, waving at the workstation. It was one thing for Fish to know things he shouldn’t. Sure, it was highly improbable but he could have found out about all those things second hand. What he couldn’t have learned second hand were Torchwood’s systems. Tosh had the place too well guarded, too well locked down. There was no other way for him to learn the programs she’d designed herself unless Fish had had first hand experience using them.

Fish smiled back at Tosh. He felt a bit nervous, like a pupil performing in front of their favourite teacher. He began tapping at the screen. He narrowed the spike and brought up the CCTV display. "It's a small to moderate spike in Canton by the railway sheds. Definitely large enough for something to have come through." 

Miranda and Tosh were both gaping at Fish. 

"Do you believe me now, Evie?" Fish said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm field certified too. I scored a twenty on my last marksmanship evaluation. You want to give me something from the armoury so I can take care of this spike?" Fish held out his hand. "I prefer the standard Torchwood issue." 

"I'm not letting you have a gun, Fish," Miranda snapped. A score of twenty meant that Fish was quite the crack shot. The highest attainable score was twenty one. Every year, Miranda barely passed her marksmanship. The minimum score was a twelve. The highest she’d ever achieved in her near half century with Torchwood was a sixteen. 

"I'll take care of it," Jack said, walking towards the Hub garage. 

"Like hell you are, Harkness!" Miranda shouted. "As far as I am concerned, you're a deserter and I am not letting you out of my sight." 

"If you lot are done arguing, I'd like to get some work done," Ianto said. No one had noticed he'd come up the east stairs. He had a PDA in his hand and he said, "Tosh, send the coordinates to the SUV's sat nav." 

Miranda looked around. She was losing control of the situation and she was supposed to be the one in charge. She snapped out, "Stay where you are, Jones." 

As much as she wanted to dismiss what Fish and Henry were saying, Miranda decided that she did need to get to the bottom of it. Likely it was something that wasn't an issue nor something that they would be able to do anything about but either way, it was a mystery that needed investigation. There seemed to be some sort of discrepancy between what Henry and Fish were 'remembering' and reality. She needed Fish, Henry and Jack in the Hub. Miranda would have preferred to send Ianto on the field call because he was immortal and could provide protection but he was experiencing this anomaly as well. 

"Tosh, Cam, would you both please see to that spike? There rest of us are going to get to the bottom of this," Miranda said, looking between Fish, Henry, Jack and Ianto. "Boardroom now… All of you."


	23. Chapter 23

Miranda was back at the head of the boardroom table. Again, she was listening to Fish and Henry tell their story so that Jack could catch up. Jack was sitting in Gwen's usual seat, listening with interest. Miranda hated involving him with this. She preferred to handle one problem at a time and right now the main problem, as she saw it, was Jack’s presence. She considered Jack a deserter and a traitor and there were only two solutions for that - death or retcon. The former was a tad moot but the latter? She wanted to retcon the past hundred years out of him and toss him into cryostatis for a century or two. Even though she'd threatened to find a way to make death stick for Jack, Miranda knew there were worse things in life than dying. Jack's voice brought her out of her thoughts. 

"It doesn't sound like a parallel universe has broken down or anything like that, Fish," Jack said. He shrugged. He put his hands down on the boardroom table, on end, parallel to each other. "Normally there are walls between parallel universes to keep them separate from each other. The same matter can't occupy the same space." Jack started to spread his fingers. "Sometimes, just sometimes, the walls between the universes are thin in spots. It's usually the result of something else, something big. These thin sections are, well, they're like a scrape. Before the scab forms, it bleeds a little." He waved at Henry and Fish. "Sometimes it bleeds memories because energy slips through easier."

"Like the rift," Ianto said, quietly. 

Jack shook his head. "No. The rift that runs through Cardiff is a rift in _our_ time and space. Another universe is someone else's time and space." He furrowed his brow looking for another analogy. "Think of our universe as a back garden. The rift is like a dog running loose. It can only stay inside the fence, picking up things from one flower bed and moving them to another." He pointed at Fish and Henry. "What the two of them are experiencing? It's a hole in the fence to someone else's time and space; someone else’s back garden.”

Fish sighed. "So, it's not real…" 

"Hey, Fish?" When Fish looked up, Jack tapped his head and said, "It's not like that. It's real up here and in the universe that it's coming from." 

Miranda muttered under her breath, "'Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?'"

"Albus Dumbledore," Fish said, rolling his eyes. "Harry Potter? Seriously, Evie? You're like four thousand years old.” 

She ignored him. "Is this a Torchwood concern, Captain Harkness?" 

Jack winced. She hadn't called him that in decades. "From what Fish, Henry and Ianto have said, whatever parallel universe is rubbing up against ours is pretty close to this one. There are only small differences. It's not really something we can do anything about or something that necessarily needs to be fixed. There's a natural order to the universe. It’ll probably fix itself." 

Fish sighed. "Why is it just me and Henry who’ve gotten the brunt of it?”  

"Not a clue," Jack said. He leaned back in his seat just as Tosh and Cameron walked into the room. "It could be because this universe is the most different for you two so the inconsistencies are more noticeable to you. Just a guess." 

Cameron and Tosh walked into the room. Cameron sat down at the foot of the table. "That rift spike was a false alarm. Nothing's come through that Tosh and I could find." 

"So have we decided whether or not the universe is disintegrating?" Tosh asked brightly, taking her seat at Miranda's right. 

"It seems not," Miranda said, flatly. She turned to Henry and Fish. "How many years of Torchwood service do you remember, Fish?" 

"Five… Evie… You're not going to retcon me are you?" If Miranda insisted upon the retcon, he would lose half of David's life and he would lose Henry. He reached out for Henry's hand. "Please, Evie, my son is nine… I'm begging you-" 

"I won’t take five years of your life from you, Fish," she said, flatly. "Your memories say otherwise… but I wouldn't have thought Torchwood was right for you." 

"You said that in the other reality too. It wasn't at first, but this job it gets to you, gets under your skin.” He couldn’t look Henry in the eye as he came to a decision. "I'd like to come back, if I can." 

"Joe…" Henry begged. 

"We'll talk about it later, Henry," Fish said. He looked at Miranda. "I know you've already got a tech, but I want back in, Evie." 

"You're nearly forty three, Fish…" Miranda started but trailed off once she saw the look on Fish's face. She nodded. "A trial period with no field work while Cooper is out on maternity leave-"

"Maternity?" Fish and Jack gasped at the same time. 

Miranda glared at Jack. "Gwen and Rhys welcomed their son into the world just this morning, Gareth Owen Williams."

Jack remembered what had slipped his mind earlier. "Where is Owen anyway?"  

"He's dead," Ianto said, flatly. 

"What?" Jack asked, horrified. 

"In 2007, Doctor Harper was shot and killed in the line," Miranda said, flatly. 

Jack shook his head. That was wrong… wasn't it? He got up from the boardroom table leaving the rest of the bewildered team behind him. He headed straight for the morgue, scanning the drawers. 

"Three to the right from that one," Ianto said from behind him. "I gave him the drawer next to Suzie." 

Jack ran his fingers over the label. _Doctor Owen Harper_ … 

"I made sure I put his title in," Ianto said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Jack closed his hand around the handle. He started to open the drawer but Ianto's hand came crashing into it, shutting it again.  

"You leave him in peace," Ianto snapped. 

Tears flowed down Jack's cheeks as he looked at the drawer. "I'm so sorry, Owen…" 

Ianto rolled his eyes at the display of grief. He shoved Jack away from the drawer, wiping it off with his handkerchief as if Jack had left some sort of vile film behind. "If Torchwood hadn't killed him, he wouldn't have lived much longer anyway. Between the drugs, the booze and the sex? Something would have gotten him. He was always taking risks he shouldn't have in the field. He was in hospital for a while about a year after you swanned off." 

"What?" Jack asked, tears still falling. 

"He chatted up the wrong bird. Got into a brawl behind a pub. Bloke kicked him in the belly and took off. He was lying on the ground for hours with a ruptured his spleen. He nearly died," Ianto said. He turned, shoving Jack hard. The strength surprised Jack as he went sprawling to the tiles. "I was there when he woke up. I saw the look in his eyes. He hadn't wanted or expected to still be alive. You did that to him Jack. You gave him Torchwood; something, someone, to believe in. He thought he was doing something here! He thought he was making sure what happened to Katie never happened to anyone else! And you took off, vanished like nothing here mattered; like we were just something to fill time while you waited for a fucking blue box.” 

Ianto shoved him. Even though Jack’s hands grabbed at the drawer handles for purchase, he fell. Ianto pointing at the drawer. “It made him feel like _he_ didn’t matter. When Ryan opened him up for the autopsy, he had stage two liver cirrhosis from all the drinking. Do you know how many STI's she'd treated? HIV was right around the corner for him." 

For a while, Jack had taken chilly welcome laying down but he'd listened to every second of Fish's story. It wasn't hard to figure out where the point of divergence was between the two universes. In this universe, he hadn't returned after the Year that Never Was and, in the universe bleeding through, he had. In that other universe, Owen and Tosh were _both_ dead. The Australian had been evasive about the reason but the looks out of the corner of his eye he'd given Jack were all the proof he'd needed to know that he'd been at the heart of it. 

Jack got to his feet, his own anger boiling up. "You heard what Fish said! In that other universe, I came back and what did it get both of them? They’re _both_ dead! Tosh is here! She’s alive! She's happy! I didn't get her killed here!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "It's always about _you_ isn't it, Jack? How all this is making _you_ feel? You didn't have to watch him fall apart!" Ianto surged forward shoving Jack roughly. "You do not get to waltz back in here and play the fucking victim!" 

Jack shoved Ianto back. "You don't know what it's like! How many people I've gotten killed! It was better this way! I stayed away to keep you all safe!" 

"Fuck you! I'm immortal too now, Jack! I had to load Owen into this drawer knowing he wouldn't be the last but I'm not the one who tucked my tail between my legs and ran!" Ianto brought his knee up into Jack's belly. "Two months after you disappeared I ended up with a bullet in my chest! That's your idea of safe?" 

Jack got to his feet, gasping. He shoved Ianto backwards up into the drawers. "You're still alive!" 

With a roar, Ianto brought his hand around, punching Jack squarely in the face. Blood started to run down Jack's cheek. He flung his arms out to his sides. “You bastard! You call this alive? Existing because I’ve no other choice? Fuck you!"

Ianto kicked Jack in the side, hearing ribs snap. Jack grabbed his ankle, twisting it and Ianto slipped on the tile. Jack backed away, trying to put some distance between them but, then again, maybe beating the ever loving shit out of him was what Ianto needed. So when Ianto came at him again, he half blocked the blows. They still landed but with less force. The sound of a gun cocking brought Jack's head up. Ianto's fist was still raised. 

"That's enough, Jones," Miranda said. 

Ianto let go of Jack’s shirt and Jack wiped the blood trickling from his mouth and nose. 

"Fuck you, too!" Ianto snapped. "You're just as pissed off at him as the rest of us! You want to give him a walloping? Wait your turn!" 

"I'm warning you, Jones," Miranda said, coldly. "You settle your score with Harkness another time." 

“Piss off!” Ianto shouted. He kneed Jack in the belly again. 

The wind knocked out of him, Jack crumpled to the ground gasping. Ianto kicked him in the side and Miranda had had enough. She would love nothing more than to let Ianto continue to vent his frustration upon Jack and then allow the man to heal so the rest of them could do the same but she would not allow it in the morgue; the resting place of so many. She fired the gun, three shots in quick succession. All of them impacted the middle of Ianto's chest. The Welshman looked down, surprised. He coughed, blood spattering his lips and fell to his knees. 

"Maybe when you revive, you'll have cooled off," Miranda snapped. 

"NO!" Jack screamed. 

He crawled over to Ianto's dying form, hauling him into his arms. Ianto was trying to speak, gurgling and spraying blood. Suddenly, a memory, vivid and agonising, filled Jack's mind. 

It was Ianto's broken body, his suit full of blood. There were deep gashes in his skin and a feverish look to his face. The blue-grey eyes had locked with his.

 _I love you, Jack_ … he heard Ianto's voice in his mind again. 

Jack cupped Ianto's face and said, "Don't!" 

The rest of the memory flooded through him. Jack stared down at Ianto's blood spattered face, cupping it. The memory was all he saw. 

_His hands, sticky from the blood, cupped Ianto's face as his beautiful blue-grey eyes began to glaze over. He seized Ianto's shoulders and shook him, hard._

He said, aloud, "Ianto! Ianto? Ianto, stay with me. Ianto, stay with me, please! Stay with me!" 

_"Don't forget me," Ianto whispered and Jack could barely hear him._

Tears began running down Jack's face. 

"Never could…" he said. 

_"A thousand years time… you won't remember me…" Ianto sobbed._

"Yes, I will. I promise I will," he said, his vision blurring with the tears.

Miranda didn't know what to make of it. Jack was acting as if Ianto was speaking to him but the Welshman was clearly dead. Jack’s eyes were unfocused. It was almost as if he were part of a scene only he could see, hallucinating something. 

_Ianto had gone limp in his arms and Jack could feel the surge of panic._

"Ianto! Ianto! Don't go! Don't leave me, please! Don't!" 

He clutched Ianto's limp form to him, sobbing hysterically. The wails of grief stunned Miranda into silence. The sobs quieted suddenly and Jack sat there with Ianto's body in his arms, staring at nothing. The memories flooded through Jack, one after another, merging in a strange duality. 

 **flash** … _jogging towards the invisible lift, leaving Martha and the Doctor behind…_ **flash** _…_ _Ianto cutting in on his dance with Gwen, the look on her face when he'd taken Jack's hands instead of hers…_ **flash** … _sliding a ring onto Ianto's finger, his eyes swimming with joyful tears…_ **flash** … _the awe on Ianto's face gazing at Saturn through the gigantic windows…_ **flash** … 

Miranda, her gun at the ready, walked over to Jack cautiously. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Jack?"

She gave him a slight shake, wondering if she should follow protocol and lock in him in a cell. She said, louder, “Jack?" 

He turned and looked up at her. Ianto's body slid off his lap onto the floor, unnoticed. 

"Will?" he asked, as if noticing her for the first time. 

"Jack? Are you all right?" she asked, genuinely concerned. Her concern wasn’t for Jack really but if he was under some alien influence, they could all be in danger. "He's fine, Jack. He'll revive in a few minutes." 

Jack looked down at Ianto. He reached out, grabbing the Welshman's left hand. There was no ring. He looked down at his own hand. The left ring finger was also empty. He fisted Ianto's lapels in his hand, dragging him into his lap again. He put his arms around his Welshman, whispering to him. 

"Jack, let go of him," Miranda warned. She didn't want Ianto reviving with Jack's arms around him. It was the last thing Ianto would want. Miranda had killed him to give him a ‘time out’ but reviving with Jack's arms around him would have the opposite effect. The Welshman would likely wake angrier than before. "Jack!" 

"It's okay, Will," Jack said, pulling Ianto further into his arms. He smoothed his hair and kissed his temple. He started to rock Ianto gently back and forth. 

Miranda wondered if Jack had lost his mind. The moment Ianto was revived, she planned to lock Jack in a cell. "Jack, you need to let go of him. He wouldn't want-"

Ianto gasped and flailed. Miranda stepped back to avoid his arms and legs. Jack gripped him tighter. "Ianto! I've got you!"

For a minute, Ianto actually settled into Jack's arms. He gripped Jack tightly, drawing him close as he gulped at the air. 

"Jack…" he gasped. 

"I'm here, Yan," Jack whispered. 

Miranda’s jaw dropped. The two of them held each other. The sight as so intimate, she felt like an intruder. But once the confusion of reviving was gone, Ianto came to his senses. Aghast, he shook off Jack's arms. "What are you doing? Don't fucking touch me!"

Miranda reached down to help him to his feet but he swatted her hand away. "Or you!" 

Ianto got to his feet and stormed off to get changed and cleaned up. He barely looked at Miranda as he walked past her. Jack's mind was sorting through the duality. He'd expected Ianto to react differently to Miranda. They were friends… weren’t they? The other memories had burst into his mind, like a bright light shining in his eyes. This wasn’t at all like one universe bleeding into another. It was almost like… almost like… _like breaking through retcon!_

Jack leapt up off the floor and grabbed Miranda's arm. "Get everyone into the boardroom, Will. I think I know what's going on!"

"We've been through this, Jack," she said, shaking off his grip. "You said… scrapes and parallel universes." 

"I had it wrong! That's not it!” 

Miranda rolled her eyes at him and started to walk away. If he thought some ridiculous story was a way for him to work his way back into their good graces, he was wrong. 

"Will, please… five minutes!" he begged. 

"I don't have time for your nonsense, Jack,” Miranda said, turning. 

"Will! All’s I'm asking for is five minutes!" Jack shouted after her. 

Miranda whirled, enraged. She stormed her way towards Jack fully intent on finishing what Ianto had started. 

Jack reached down and slammed a card he never wanted to play down between them. With some guilt, he hissed, "Santorini!" 

Miranda stopped as if Jack had slapped her. She took a step backwards. The cascade of emotions across her face went from surprise, to anger, to shame and then back again. As always with Miranda, the anger won out. He swore the temperature in the morgue dropped another ten degrees as she said, "You have five minutes and not a second longer.” 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temporary note: This story is cross posted at my dreamwidth account of the same name, [here.](http://gubernaculum.dreamwidth.org/62094.html) There is currently a poll up to decide the next step in my Namesakes universe. If you would like to express your opinion, please vote!

Everyone was back in the boardroom. Miranda was at the head of the table. Henry was in Gwen's vacant seat on Miranda's left and Tosh was on Miranda's right. Cameron looked extremely uncomfortable sitting with Ianto on his left and Jack squeezed next to him on his right. Fish was next to Tosh. None of them would even look in Jack's direction except for Fish. The tension in the room hung like a fog. It was mostly hanging between Miranda, Jack and Ianto though Fish got the distinct impression that the reserved Japanese woman next to him was actually simmering herself. She seemed to be the coolest head in the room. Fish only knew what he’d heard from others but Fish expected nothing less from Toshiko. 

"I was wrong before about this being a bleed through. I think I know what’s really going on," Jack said, carefully avoiding everyone’s gaze. "I have my suspicions but I need to be certain. Aside from Henry and Fish who else has noticed the duality?"

Reluctantly, Ianto knocked on the table. He'd been in the middle of changing his clothes when Miranda had summoned everyone. Fish thought he looked strange in the t-shirt and suit trousers. 

"Tosh? Nothing? And… I'm sorry, what's your name again?" Jack asked, turning to the man sitting next to him. 

"Cameron MacDonald, Captain Harkness," he said. 

Fish felt badly for Cameron. The man was caught between Jack and a Welsh powder keg. He looked as if he was about to reach out and shake Jack's hand but thought better of it once he caught the look on Ianto's face out of the corner of his eye. 

"Right, the guy from the hospital," Jack said, nodding with a furrowed brow. "The nanopaths." 

"That case was last year," Cameron said, confused. "Doctor Ryan recruited me after my internship." 

"I guess in the right reality you join Torchwood a little later," Jack said to no one in particular. 

"What are you talking about? 'The right reality' Jack? I thought you said this was the bleeding of one parallel universe into another?" Miranda asked, annoyed. "If you are doing nothing more than wasting our time-"

"Let him talk, Miranda." Tosh laid a left hand on Miranda's arm. 

"Thanks, Tosh," Jack said, relieved. 

But Tosh wasn't really on his side either. She was on the side of the room not exploding. She tilted her head, glaring at Jack over the rims of her glasses. She narrowed her eyes slightly and Jack felt the hair on his neck stand on end. He swallowed convulsively. 

"Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm glad to see you because I'm defending you, Jack. I just don't want Miranda to make a mess Ianto'll have to clean up," she said with a chill. “Get to the point.” 

"Tosh… I…" 

Miranda brought the flat of her hand down on the table. Sternly, she said, "Enough. I do not know what is going on here, but I told you you'd have five minutes, Jack, and your time is nearly up. So, you had better start convincing me something is going on before I make good on my promise to rip your lungs up through your throat." 

Jack looked at Fish. "Do you remember what happened when you showed up at Torchwood the first time?" 

Fish nodded and rolled his eyes. "Those two sods retconned me." 

"Yeah, but you didn't stay away, Fish," Jack said. 

Fish shrugged. "I broke through the retcon." 

"How?" Jack asked, realising he'd never asked before. 

"It was a picture. Actually the lack of a picture," Fish said, digging through his memory. "I have this digital picture frame on my desk at work. It runs a slideshow over and over again, on a loop." He furrowed his brow. "Sorry it's hard to remember which reality has which pictures…" 

"It's okay, Fish, it doesn't matter," Jack said, waving dismissively. "You noticed a picture wasn't there? Which one?" 

"Evie and I had gone out to the pub with some of my mates from uni. We were all crammed into this booth with green seats and an ugly yellow light fixture," Fish said, shrugging. "Mike Warren, my boss, asked me which picture was missing. As I told him which picture it was, I just kept thinking that Evie… she was my best friend. We'd drifted apart. I knew I should've kept in touch…" Fish shook his head, a bit emotional. "I remembered how fucking angry at myself and how heartbroken I was when I'd heard she'd died in that RTA. I remembered how pissed off I was that one of the most brilliant people I knew wasn't wearing a seatbelt. Then I remembered the bloke who told me started hinting that it had been a suicide… I was so angry at him. I just kept thinking how angry I was and how Evie’d never do something like that and then I suddenly remembered that she wasn't actually dead." 

"Do you remember what breaking through the retcon felt like?" Jack asked, eager.

Fish nodded. "Bloody awful. My head hurt and so much of it came back that I got sick." 

"Forget losing your breakfast a second. In your mind, how did the memories come back?" 

"Like flashes, one after another…" Fish trailed off seeing Jack's point. "It was like remembering the memories of the other reality! Like breaking through a barrier!" 

Jack pointed down at the boardroom table. "The point of divergence is the Year That Never Was." 

"What the fuck does that mean, Jack?" Miranda snapped. 

Frustrated, Jack leaned forward. He didn't have time or the patience for Miranda's hot headed posturing. "Saxon. The assassination of the American president? Any of that ring a bell, Will?" 

"That was years ago!" Tosh exclaimed. 

"Harold Saxon was a Time Lord. He created a paradox. When the Doctor, Martha and I reversed it, it was like that year never happened. No one remembers it but the ones who were caught in the eye of the storm," Jack said, swirling his finger round and round on the table. "After that year… The Doctor asked me to travel with him. In one reality, I said yes and in the other reality I said no. In the Torchwood that Fish remembers, he remembers me. In the Torchwood that Henry remembers, he remembers me. That is the true point of divergence." 

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You said it was a parallel universe bleeding through into ours." 

"Memories from a parallel universe seeping into ours would feel just like that… seeping. This feels more like breaking through a lock, like overcoming retcon. There’s something else at work here.” Jack looked from Tosh to Miranda and back again. "Toshiko? What happened after I didn't come back?" 

Tosh looked from Jack to her fiancée to back again. "Gwen took over. We tried but after a few months we couldn't hide your disappearance from Her Majesty forever. We fought for Gwen's promotion but the Queen appointed Miranda." 

Jack turned to Miranda. "Were you staying at the house?" 

"Yes," she said, softly, not meeting his eye. 

"Henry? Fish? You said you were together when you noticed the duality? What triggered it?" he asked. 

Fish immediately blushed scarlet and Henry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"I met Joe last week. He attended my exhibition in Manchester with his wife," Henry said softly. They'd heard this already but Henry was avoiding the question. "Joe and I have been spending a great deal of time together-" 

"We've been having an affair," Fish clarified. He shifted in his seat. "When the affair became physical, the memories just… broke through."  

Strong emotions seemed to either keep them from seeing the truth or helped them to see it. For Henry and Fish, it had been their love. For Jack, it had been his grief. He looked back and forth between Tosh and Miranda. There was no reason for either of them to try to break through. They were happy together. If anyone could convince Miranda something was wrong, it was the woman she loved. 

"Tosh… do you remember what happened after the Pharm?" Jack asked, digging into his own memory. 

"Owen died," she said, simply. 

"What happened before Martha could perform the autopsy?" 

"Martha?" 

"I performed the autopsy on Harper, Jack," Miranda interrupted.

Jack stood up, planting his hands on the table. "No, Will. You didn't. You were still in Caernarfon and Martha Jones did the autopsy. Right, Tosh?" 

"Jack…" Tosh whispered, confusion all over her face. 

"Enough of this," Miranda said, putting her hand on Tosh's arm. "You're upsetting her and that I will _not_ have." 

Jack slammed his hand down on the desk. "You gave me five minutes, Will." 

"Which you have already used!" Miranda snapped, also rising to her feet. 

Tosh grabbed Miranda's arm. “Will you shut up, Miranda, and let him finish?" 

Miranda pressed her mouth into a thin line and sat back down falling silent. Jack recovered from his shock quickly. He didn't know of a single person alive who could crack a whip at Miranda Ryan, not if they wanted to continue breathing. Jack saw the diamond ring on Tosh’s finger. He saw the way they looked at each other. They were so in love. If he put this right… No, he had to fix this.  

“Do you remember, Toshiko? I told you all to wait for me," Jack said, slowly and deliberately. "You loved Owen. You kept waiting for him to notice you and now he never would. Remember? I got the resurrection glove so you could all say goodbye," he stared her down, seeing it on the edge of her mind. "You told him you'd miss him and that you loved him… that you always had." 

Tosh's mouth opened slightly, the bottom lip quivering. _I'm going to miss you… and I love you. Always have…_ She was so shocked, she actually stood up from her seat, eyes widening. 

He could see Miranda about to speak but he held out his hand to silence her. Jack hated himself for what he said next but what stronger emotion could he play to than the moment Tosh had died in his arms? "Do you remember the power plant? The meltdown?" 

Pain blossomed in Tosh's belly and arm. Her knees weakened and she sat back down into her chair again. Both her hands pressed into her stomach, she looked at them expecting to see… blood? 

To Miranda's horror, Tosh's eyes unfocused just as Jack’s had in the morgue. Tosh begged, in a shaking voice, "Owen, just stay calm!”

_"Oh, why should I do that?! Where's the fun in that?! I'm going to rage my way to oblivion!" The sounds of the scream hurt more than the bullet in her belly or the broken bone in her arm._

Tears spilled over onto Tosh's cheeks. 

"Because you're breaking my heart…" she sobbed. 

"Toshiko?" Miranda whispered. She reached for her lover but Tosh didn't see her. 

 **flash** … _Owen's ice cold hand in hers as they danced_ … **flash** … _the heavy concrete slab over her, crushing her, the searing pain in her arm_ … **flash** … _she couldn't feel much anymore but there were strong arms and Jack's face_ … **flash** … _she smiled, she wasn't afraid_ … 

With a horrified look on her face, Tosh slowly turned her head to look at Jack. 

"I died in your arms," Tosh whispered. 

The tears in his own eyes were spilling over. He let out a strangled sob and said, "You smiled at me." 

"Tosh?" Miranda whispered. 

She let out a sad laugh. "At least it wasn't crossing the road or an incident with a toaster…" 

She turned and looked at Miranda. Her eyes were full of sadness and love. "They're right. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. I never knew you. We never met. I died before you even came here."  

"No!" Miranda exclaimed. She threw her arms around Tosh. "They're wrong. You're here. We're here." 

"It's not supposed to be this way." Tosh buried her face in Miranda's shoulder. "He came back, Miranda." She backed out of Miranda's arms and stepped towards Jack. She took one shaky step after another. "Did you get my video?" 

Jack's voice shook as he said, "Yeah. Yeah, we did." 

Tosh threw her arms around Jack's neck. She sobbed, "You saved me!"

Through his own sobs, Jack choked out, "You did good, Toshiko. You did real good…" 

He pulled back, cupping her face. He kissed her forehead gently and then looked around at them all. "I know what's going on."


	25. Chapter 25

Jack handed the key on a string to Ianto. 

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?" Ianto asked. 

"It's a TARDIS key. It'll help," Jack said. 

"Help with what?" Ianto asked, impatient. He put the key around his neck anyway. 

"Look around, what do you see, Ianto?" 

"The Hub," Ianto snapped. "And why would it be me?"

"Because of the divergence point. In this reality, I didn't come back after the Year That Never Was, I travelled with the Doctor. But in our true reality, I did. You're the person that would have affected the most, Ianto. Not Gwen. Not Will. Not Fish or anyone else. YOU." Jack seized both his upper arms and turned him around. "Look close. No one knows more about this place than you do. You know every nook, every cranny. Something is here that doesn't belong. It's right there, exactly where you don't want to look. It's there, in the corner of your eye, Yan. SEE!"

With a huff, Ianto began to rotate in place, looking up and down and every which way but he couldn't see anything out of place. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about…"

And then he trailed off as his eyes settled on Fish's worktable. No, Tosh's worktable. It was a book. Had that always been there? 

"You see it don't you, Ianto?" Jack asked. 

Ianto walked over and picked the book up. He tried to open it but it wouldn't budge. Once Ianto had picked it up, Jack's eyes were finally able to focus on it. He swallowed with fear. No one else here realised how lucky they were. He’d heard about these things. They were illegal, banned on every civilised world. 

"It's a reforge. It was made by an extinct species, the Thylacosians. They didn't go extinct because of war or disease. They went extinct because of that.”  

"But what is it?" Fish asked. 

"It's just a bleeding book!" Cameron exclaimed.

"'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both…'" Jack said, softly. 

"Robert Frost," Fish and Henry said simultaneously. 

Ianto turned. "Sorry?" 

"A poem," Jack said. 

"I know it's a bloody poem, Jack," Ianto snapped back. "What does it have to do with this thing?"  

"That's what it is. You want to know 'what if?' This thing shows you.” Jack pointed at the book. 

"Like that Frank Capra movie! It's a wonderful life!" Tosh exclaimed. 

Ianto shook his head, still not believing but Jack could see him on the edge. He dropped the book onto the table. The book immediately vanished from sight. "This is ridiculous. I have work to do. I don't have time for your nonsense, Jack."

"How can something create an entire universe like this? Make something out of nothing?” Fish asked, stepping forward. 

"It's not reality, not really," Jack said, turning to Fish. "It's just a small pocket inside our own universe which is why we can still remember the real one. It starts out as deja vu but you can break through it. It's meant to be a learning experience." 

"Some bloody learning experience!" Henry snapped. "Destroy it!"

"NO!" Jack shouted. “Nearly the entire Thylacosian race is trapped in little pockets like this. When it was invented, it spread like a viral fad. Not enough people broke through the mental barrier. Their numbers dropped below the minimum viable population. The few that survived destroyed the books not realising that was the worst thing they could do. If that book is destroyed, we'll be trapped in here!" 

“You’re telling me that we’re in a pocket inside our own universe? And that back in the ‘real’ Hub, there’s a book sitting on the table? And if someone destroys it we’ll be stuck here?” Ianto asked, skeptically. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Jack insisted.  

It made perfect sense now, at least to Jack. He’d been miserable. The alternate reality the book had created for him had conflicted so much with his own reality that his mind had fought it. It was why nothing ever seemed right and he’d had so much heartache. Fish? From what he’d described, he didn’t seem happy either. When he’d met Henry, he’d collided with his own happiness, breaking through the reality the book had created. Tosh and Miranda were blissful here. There was no reason for them to try and break through. They’d readily accepted this facade. Cameron seemed ambivalent either way so there was no real change there. Jack wondered what Gwen had felt. This was Ianto’s learning experience so the book was working on him the hardest. 

Ianto waved at him, dismissively. "I still don't see what this has to do with me." 

"Your thoughts and feelings at the moment the book went off are what created all this," Jack said, waving around him. "It grabbed the people who were important to you and made this to teach you something." 

“This is ridiculous.” Ianto said, shaking his head, “You just make things up as you go along…"

Ianto continued to rattle on, angrily, making offensive references to Jack and his dubious parentage. Jack had to get Ianto to see but he had no idea how. A memory on the edge of mind that tingled. He was laying in bed with Ianto, the two of them just talking about how Owen had told Ianto the two of them were a recipe for disaster. It was the story of how Ianto had fallen in love with him. _It started after the space whale_ … Ianto had said, flat out, that he hadn’t loved Jack but maybe it hadn’t been love. Maybe he hadn’t even realised it… Jack stepped forward and said, loudly, "Ianto Jones… I love you." 

Ianto stopped his tirade. His mouth open and his eyes wide. He'd never thought he'd ever hear those words from Jack's mouth… ever. But he’d heard Jack say them before… hadn't he? Ianto lifted his left hand. His ring finger was empty. Why did he expect to see a ring there? 

"We're in there, Ianto. _Reach for us_ ," Jack begged, holding out his hand. 

Ianto had no idea why but he grasped Jack's hand. Jack yanked him forward into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I love you, Ianto." 

"Cariad…" was his whispered reply. Jack’s pheromones were in his nose and they made his heart skip. “You left us." 

"I came back."

"For all of us."

"For _you_ ," Jack cried. He took Ianto's left hand in his, rubbing the ring finger gently. "Yes, Ianto. It's always yes." 

The anger was there, trying to rear its head again but he beat it back. It felt false, like it was there just to cover over something. The anger was his way of shoving his head in the sand. There was something below, something foggy and out of focus. It was like the book. It was in the corner of his mind, somewhere he didn’t want to look, somewhere he never wanted to ever look… 

Jack cupped his face in his hand and said softly, "I will love you, Ianto… forever." 

The memory was sudden and complete, bursting through his mind like a bright sun. Jack was standing opposite him, the two of them in matching tuxedoes. The deep red roses decoated the church and Jack's hand in his. _Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?_

Ianto whispered, "I will…" 

 **flash** … _Alice walking a beaming Jack down the aisle_ … **flash** … _I'm NOT like you, Jack. WE'RE NOT LIKE YOU!…_ **flash**...

 _Closing his eyes against the red countdown and filling his mind with Jack_ … **flash** … _the world going dark and his mind screaming Jack’s name_ … **flash** … _Jack Harkness, will you marry me?_ … **flash** …  

"Jack?" he whispered. He looked at his husband as if he hadn't seen him in years. He seized Jack’s face, pulling him in for a kiss as long and as it was deep. Jack felt his knees go weak as Ianto's tongue slid along his. He held Ianto in a crushing embrace, drinking down the man he loved. It was like finding an oasis. When they broke apart, there were tears on their cheeks. They both wiped them from the other's face. Their foreheads touching. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Ianto sobbed. His head hurt and the memories were so confusing, jumbled and none of them made sense but he had Jack. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Yan,” Jack replied, kissing him again. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

They stood there for a few moments. Jack had his hands on Ianto’s arms and Ianto had his hands cradling Jack’s neck. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to forget them again. 

"What were you thinking, the exact moment it went off?" Jack asked, softly. 

"I don't remember!" Ianto exclaimed with despair. Frustrated, he stepped back, his hand on his forehead. 

"You have to, Ianto," Jack insisted. "It's the key to everything. The book’s trying to teach you something. We need to figure out what. C'mon, Ianto. THINK! It would’ve had something to do with the Doctor since that’s the moment that changed." 

"Wait a minute, Jack," Fish said. "If this is Ianto's learning experience then why the bloody hell is my life so fucking upside down? Olivia left me years ago!” 

“There must’ve been something about you being a part of Ianto’s life here that went against what the book wanted to teach him," Jack said. He waved at the worktable even though he couldn't see the book.

Angry, Fish began muttering about bloody Torchwood and insanity. Jack turned back to Ianto as the other man spoke. 

Ianto looked at Fish. “Perspective.”

“What?” Fish asked, confused. 

“You’re one of my best mates, Fish,” Ianto said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Whenever I talk to you about something, you always put it into perspective for me or give me a different point of view I’d never thought of. That blasted book wants me to be angry with Jack. It had me so deep in self pity and anger I was bloody drowning in it.” 

Miranda and Cameron were looking on, stunned. The two of them were the only ones who didn’t remember anything. 

Ianto looked around the Hub for a minute, grasping at the memories. “We'd had a row. You'd said something to… Martha?" 

Jack grabbed him by his upper arms, throwing his head back and laughing.

"Martha Jones, voice of a nightingale!" Jack said. Then, he said, "Keep going, Ianto. You can do it. Remember!"

Ianto furrowed his brow deeply and said, "Pizza?"

"Pizza! I told Martha that I was eating pizza and doing you instead of having adventures with the Doctor!" Jack said, remembering himself. 

"You didn't understand why I was so angry. I was going to go sleep on Mandy's sofa. You were on the roof. The rift alert went off and I saw to it myself. The book was up on the quay, by the railing. I brought it down here and then…" Ianto said. His brow furrowed more. "I'm sorry, Jack." 

"No, s'okay. It's good, Ianto. Keep trying," Jack said.

"No! That’s what I was thinking. 'I'm sorry, Jack'," Ianto said. 

"What does it mean?" Tosh asked. "How do we fix this?" 

"There's nothing to fix," Miranda shouted. She grabbed Tosh's hands. "Tosh, please! Don't you see! If they change things, you'll die! 

"If we put it all back the way it was you won't know you lost her," Jack said to Miranda. “This is Ianto’s learning experience. Only he’ll know what's happened." 

"That's worse!" Miranda screeched over them. She waved her arm at Fish. "Tosh will die! Fish won't remember his son! How is that better?!"

Tosh put her hand on Miranda's face. "I love you. I love you here and now and that's what matters." 

"Toshiko… my rising sun… not yet… We haven’t had enough time. I love you so much.” Miranda fought back the tears threatening to burst through. Those words had never felt like enough. She had to keep Tosh with her, somehow. She couldn't lose her. She couldn't. She was desperate, trying to think of any solution. 

Fish rounded on Ianto, grabbing his friend from Jack and shaking him. "You tell me, Ianto! We fix this and you tell me about David! Don't you dare fucking let me forget him!" 

"Fish-" 

"He's my son, Ianto! I'm fucking _begging_ you!" he pleaded. "Please don't let me forget him! _PLEASE!"_

Ianto didn't get a chance to respond. Miranda had found her solution. She kiss Tosh gently and then turned. She bolted across to Tosh's workstation, picking up her sword. She pointed it at Ianto. "I challenge you." 

"NO!" Tosh screamed. 

Miranda didn't give Ianto a chance to respond. She lunged at him with her sword. 

"MANDY! MANDY, STOP!" Ianto said, scrambling back. 

"I'm sorry, Jones. I won't let you do this!” she screeched, swinging her blade. 

He wasn't armed. His own sword was across the room. She’d seen him make this mistake over and over again but she’d never corrected him. Ianto wasn’t her student. He wasn’t her friend and now? Now he was her enemy. Ianto dodged, throwing everything he could get his hands on into Miranda's path. He overturned Fish's worktable and then the desk chair. He scrambled backwards, trying to make it to his workstation where his own sword was. Miranda saw Jack making the same move. 

Unlike Jack, Miranda had no qualms about being armed within the Hub. She drew her gun and fired in Jack's direction. It was the best aim of her life. Two of the bullets landed in Jack's chest and he went down. She would rather have put two bullets into that book but she couldn't see it hidden within its perception filter. 

"Miranda stop! Please!" Tosh screamed. She and Cameron ran straight for Jack, trying to help him. 

Ianto managed to get to his blade just in time to parry a swing from Miranda. He brought his knee up into her belly and she reeled backwards. 

"I'm not a fledgling in this universe, Mandy,” Ianto snapped. He swung a few times, blows she barely dodged. He was strong in this reality. He had more than a single head under his belt and years of training with the Highlander and Duncan had taught him well. Ianto was showing her just enough skill so that she took him as a serious threat but not showing all his cards at once. "I've been training with Mac for years! And you know he's better than you are!" 

Miranda circled to the right. He saw her free arm shift, going for the small throwing blade concealed in her belt. "Yes, the Highlander is better than I am but the only question that matters is are you?" 

The small blade flew through the air with speed and accuracy. Ianto leaned, avoiding the weapon and it planted itself in Gwen’s computer, the touch screen glass shattering. Miranda used the distraction to lunge for Ianto but he deflected the blow. She continued to swing at him. He was good but she was still better. He scrambled up the stairs towards the hothouse and she followed. She swung and the blade sliced into Ianto's arm. He switched hands and managed to land a solid kick to her face. He took advantage of the stunning blow. He brought his sword around, swinging upwards. The point sliced deep into Miranda's chest, cutting through her breast vertically. It continued arching upwards into her neck, jaw and face. She screamed as blood poured from the wounds. Ianto had severed a major vessel in her neck and face. The blood spurted, arching up and splattering the Welsh dragon painted on the concrete wall. Miranda stumbled backwards and fell, her sword falling from her grip. Her hands flew to her neck, trying to staunch the blood. Ianto stood above her, his sword raised for the killing blow. 

“There can be only one!” he shouted. 

"Ianto! NO!" Tosh screamed, running towards the catwalk. 

Ianto's blade arced downwards… impacting with the metal just above Miranda's head. He leaned down so only Miranda would hear him. "You did it because you love her but I love Jack too. Things might be just fine the way they are here, but this isn't real, Mandy. It's not supposed to be this way. I'm sorry. That book wanted to teach me something and now I know what." 

He dropped his sword and stepped over Miranda's dying form. Tosh bolted past him. There was no anger on her face, just desperation. She pulled Miranda's dying body into her arms, ignoring the blood spraying across her own face and chest from between Miranda's fingers. She gripped Miranda tightly and began whispering as fast as she could. Ianto tried to shut the words from his ears. He didn’t want to hear the goodbye that Miranda would never remember but he heard enough that it tested his resolve. He hardened his heart. He went down the stairs and ran straight for Jack, laying flat on the concrete. He pulled him into his arms. 

"Ianto…" 

"Shh, don't try to talk, cariad, just listen," Ianto said. He cupped Jack's face, staring into his eyes. "I understood when you left. We watched the CCTV footage, we saw you running for the TARDIS and I understood. You needed your answers. When you didn't come back I thought I was angry with you but I wasn't… the truth is I was angry with myself. I was angry cos I wasn't good enough. How could I compete with all of time and space or adventures with a Time Lord? I'm just a nobody from Newport. I convinced myself I'd gotten over you because you were never coming back. I saw the hope of love in what we had and when you didn't come back I thought you'd destroyed that hope but it was still there. I tried to drown it in work, booze, and warm willing bodies but it was all a lie. I was always waiting for you. I never accepted Mandy here because that would mean, deep down, I was accepting you were never coming back. I was keeping that hope alive and I didn't even know it. And here you are. It took you a while this time, but you came back for me again. You said that to me the first time even though you tried to back out of it. I'm sorry, Jack. I'm sorry I lost faith in us because, it’s good yeah? What we have?”

"The best," Jack said weakly. 

"It was always a sore point for me… you and the Doctor. I know you love him… are in love with him. It was why I was so angry that night because I’m always afraid you’re going to leave, that that blue box will appear on the Plass and you’ll be gone again, leaving me behind.” Ianto brushed his thumb over Jack's cheek. "I know what I'm about to say will put this right and that you won't remember me saying it but I know it's not about you hearing it. It's about me finally realising the truth. I spent a lot of time being jealous… jealous of the Doctor… of Gwen… of Mandy… But you always come back to me and now I understand that you always will. I thought that loving you was a choice but it isn't. I thought that I let myself fall in love with you but I was wrong. When you were gone in this reality, I fell in love with you even thought you weren't here. I know now that loving you isn't a choice but being with you is. It isn’t just a choice for me. It’s one for you too. I'm a choice you keep making and will make, day after day. You proved that to me and I’m sorry I never really saw it, Jack. I won’t take it for granted ever again.” 

Ianto lifted his head as the glow of the book reached his eyes. He looked at Tosh and before he could tell her how sorry he was, how much he loved her and missed her… the world went black again.


	26. Chapter 26

Miranda had just shut down her computer at the end of a very long day. She scrubbed at her face and sighed. The paperwork, as always, was going to be the death of her. The others always wondered why they bothered with reports no one read but them but Miranda, an immortal, knew not to think in absolutes like never or ever. So she always made sure her paperwork was accurate, her reports pristine. It may mean late nights like this but, someday, she was positive their stories would be told. 

With her fingers hooked into her shoes, she stood up and moved towards the autopsy bay stairs on bare feet but something stopped her. She put her shoes back on and turned towards the morgue stairs. Her high heels echoed on the tile of the cavernous space. She stopped, not really knowing what was guiding her. She entered the morgue and looked around at the drawers. They were filled with her and Jack's friends. Miranda let her eyes settle on each drawer in turn as the names and faces floated through her mind. Some of them brought smiles to her face, some made her belly clench with anger… _Harriet… Charles… Audrey… Sarah… Gabe…_ _So many… One day we’re going to run out of space…_

Finally, her eyes settled on a drawer she had no business caring about. She'd never known the occupant. She walked over to it. It was on the bottom row so she crouched down. Gently, she rested her hand on the front plate and read Ianto's tidy handwriting. _Toshiko Sato_. A strange pang went through her heart and for some reason, she thought of the sunrise. 

"Mandy?" 

Miranda stood up and turned around. 

"What are you doing down here?" Ianto asked. He had a small bouquet of tulips in his hands. 

"I don't know," she said, looking around. "I… I honestly don't know." 

Ianto walked over and rested the bouquet in front of Tosh's drawer. 

"I wish you'd known her," Ianto said, cryptically. He'd been acting so strange lately. 

"I'm sure she was exceptional," Miranda said simply. She stood up and started to walk from the morgue. There was something not quite right. Had she forgotten to do something? She could feel it, on the edge of her mind, like trying to remember a dream she'd forgotten. 

"I gave Owen a drawer, even though there's nothing in it. He never appreciated her," Ianto said randomly. He gave the drawer an affectionate kick before crouching down to run his hand over Tosh's drawer gently. "He always took her for granted. That's one of the things I've learned about being immortal. You realise how fragile mortals are, how fleeting… so you never take them for granted. You would've… you would've really loved her, Mandy. You never would've taken her for granted like Owen did. She spent so much time just waiting for Owen to notice her. You would have noticed her straight away.” His voice started to crack as he spoke. “You would've made her so happy and she… she deserved that." 

Miranda turned, she saw the circular drops of tears on the tile. "What's gotten into you lately, Ifan?" 

"I know we're supposed to submit reports on all the alien shite that happens but this… this was too… too much," Ianto said. His voice was unsteady and the tears continued to run down his cheeks. 

"What happened to you, Ifan?" Miranda asked, walking back towards her friend as quickly as she could. Was she about to learn why Ianto said so many strange things lately? Why he looked at Fish with such pity? Why his skill with a blade had increased a thousand fold seemingly overnight? The Ianto Jones in front of her could be just as old as she… or older. With time travel and the goings on of Torchwood anything was possible but what Ianto said next was not what Miranda expected at all. 

"I was selfish, Mandy. I stole love away from you… away from her," Ianto whispered. He buried his face in his hands and started to sob. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."


End file.
